Warpath
by padfootagain
Summary: In 2016, scientists find a way to travel through time. Only one problem: they can only travel back to 1765, when the first sparks of the American Revolutinary War are alit. Will they be able to remain out of the conflict, or will they have to choose a side, for the sake of the timeline? Will they join the Sons of Liberty, or fight for their own lives? Sam/OC pairing.
1. 251 Years, 3 Months, 5 Days, 6 Minutes

**Hi everyone! Before we start, I have a few things to tell you. Sorry if it's a bit long, but I won't be bothering you with this again, so let's get rid of it.**

 **First, this is a fic based on the TV series 'Sons of Liberty', and will so far be based on the series, and not the historical facts. I will also change some things of course, but the main events (the Boston Tea Party, Lexington, Bunker Hill...) will appear in this story, though they will be more or less changed as my OCs will interact with the characters of the original series.**

 **I will need to use some scenes from the series, though I obviously do not own any of the characters or events present in the series. All the dialogues coming from the series will thus be written in italic script, to be sure that no plagiarism of any form is intended. It is merely the work of a fan. I will also include in the notes at the beginning of the chapters if I do use some scenes coming from the series. And it is indeed the case in this first chapter.**

 **There is a bit of scientific talk in this chapter, but it is probably the only time the whole principle of the thing will be explained, so don't be afraid, I'm not writing a scientific fanfic, and no more complicated science will be used afterwards, I promise (except if you want me to do so, but I don't reckon you will ;) ).** **The general principle of wormholes used in this fic is correct, though its uses and creations are not relevent as I have pictured them in this fanfiction. But the general principle is correct. If you have any questions about it, please tell me. I'm far from being an expert, but I'll do my best to explain it to you.**

 **I also mention the LHC (Large Hadron Collider) in this first chapter. It is the particle accelerator in Switzerland, which is used to study the acceleration and collision of particles at high speed. For those who may have heard about it, that's where we discovered the Higgs Boson a few years ago.**

 **Another important point, English is not my natural language (I'm French actually), so there will be some mistakes I'm afraid. Please, tell me if you spot any, or if you have any remarks to make me improve my English. I'll be glad to correct my mistakes. I'm working hard to improve, but I'm not perfect ;)**

 **I know the principle of this fic may sound a bit weird, but it will (or at least should) make sense as my OCs will be part of the events of the series, and others coming from my own imagination.**

 **I hope you like this story as much as I love writing it. Please, tell me what you think about it. All point of views, and feedbacks, and critics are more than welcome. Feel free to review, or send me PMs.**

 **Thank you so much for reading, hope you like it ;)**

* * *

 **251 Years, 3 months, 5 days and 6 minutes.**

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _August 13_ _th_ _, 1765._

It was raining. It was raining hard. The droplets were falling down heavily upon him, making him slip upon the rooftops. He jumped upon the drenched roof of the next house, panting, but the cries of the British soldiers down there, in the street, were preventing him from stopping and resting. A warrant had just been issued for his arrest. And why? Because he had refused to collect taxes from people whose only way of payment was to shut their business and sell the whole thing. And then what? Out of work, they would not be more able to pay taxes in the end. But now, their debts had become his own. He hadn't read the warrant, he hadn't let the soldiers close enough to show him, for sure, or he wouldn't be running under the rain, jumping from rooftops to rooftops, he would already be in chains. But he knew what the warrant said anyway, he didn't need to read the manuscript words to know them. The debt of his friends had become his, and though the Crown didn't care about the violence in the streets, or the people out of work, or the families starving out in the outskirts of town, the Crown was very touchy when it came to taxes. And he couldn't say it was surprising. Money was all there was for these men, no matter how many people would suffer in the process, they always wanted more...

Samuel Adams jumped down on the muddy ground, his worn-out boots slipping upon the drenched earth of the dirty street. But soon he was surrounded by men clothed in red again. He climbed up in a new house, entering by a window. He ran through the rooms, without even noticing the couple kissing on the bed. He jumped through a window again, landing on a small roof, levelled with the first floor. The rain hit violently his cheeks again, as suddenly he was feeling someone's grasp around his leg. He quickly knocked out the soldier, hurrying along the roof. He jumped back down in the street, and ran away again. He finally entered the square, where two gangs were fighting for the control of the docks nearby. An Irishman looked up at him, his face covered with blood, both his and his opponents'.

" _Sam_ ," Kelly cried over the loud chaos of the raging battle, in his strong Irish accent, " _what's going on?_ "

Samuel pointed out the soldiers, who were hurrying after him through the crowd.

" _They're after me!_ "

Behind him, the Captain and his men were pushing the fighting men away from their path.

" _Move! Get out of the streets!_ " the officer cried.

Suddenly, coming out from nowhere, a soldier arrived behind Sam, and before he could defend himself, the military man hit him hard on the forehead with the butt of his firearm. Sam quickly cleared his mind again, focusing on the soldier clothed in red, and punched him hard on the face, making him fall to the muddy ground. He turned around towards the British officer, speaking in a loud and clear voice, so that everyone in the square could here.

" _Why don't_ you _move? These are our streets!"_

The crowd roared in agreement, and soon nobody was fighting anymore, all turning towards the soldiers.

" _Get back to your homeland! Come on!_ "

The soldiers backed away, the Captain commanding his men to hold their fire. But soon, the crowd turned into an angry mob, and they were coming for them...

" _Go back to the Governor's house! Fall back to the Governor's house!_ " the officer ordered his men.

And soon they were all running away from the square, hurrying towards Governor Hutchinson's mansion. They closed the iron gates behind them, just in time to prevent the mob to enter after them. Sam followed the angry crowd, quite amazed by what was going on, but happy nonetheless. They deserved what was happening, they were responsible for the anger of the people of Boston.

The soldiers hurried inside the house, whilst men were throwing stones at them, trying to break the gates to enter the house.

And soon indeed the iron gates were falling to the ground...

The mob entered the house, and for several long minutes, the place was torn apart completely. Curtains were burnt, paintings were destroyed, chairs were sent flying through the windows... There was soon not much left unbroken inside the mansion.

Sam watched the house being destroyed, leaning against the corner of a house nearby, the ghost of a smile upon his lips. Only a few words, and sparks were igniting the whole place. It was crazy the power that only a few words could muster...

He heard people walking in the adjacent street, and took a look beyond the corner of the house. The Governor was fleeing, a pile of papers under his arms, his wig lopsided upon his head, soldiers surrounding him, ready to react. He turned around, and caught Sam's glance. And for a few seconds, the two men merely stared at each other, weighting their opponent. For all this was far from over, and they both knew it.

After several more minutes, the men finally came out of the Governor's house, merry, and Sam found back Kelly.

"Let's go back to the tavern," Sam told him, unwilling to stay for too long into the streets, when soon the whole British army would be looking for him.

"That was fun!" laughed Kelly loudly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Sam answered, a small smile curving the corner of his lips.

"What did they want from you anyway?"

"Debts, I'm afraid."

"The uncollected taxes?"

"What else could it be?"

Kelly nodded slowly, before patting roughly Sam's shoulder.

"Well, I'm sure we'll find something. And in the meantime, I guess you'll have to stay at the inn."

"I guess I will have to, yes."

They entered the square again, along with many of the men who had taken part in the destruction of the Governor's house. Suddenly, there was a strange low noise...

"Did you hear that?" Kelly asked Sam.

Sam nodded slowly, frowning. They all came to a stop, looking around them. They had never heard such a sound before.

The wind started to blow, twirling, and climbing up towards the sky. They all looked up, and their eyes widened.

In the sky, above their heads, a large dark gap seemed to suck everything around it, covering the stars... or rather pushing them away, as if the sky was suddenly distorted...

"What, in the name of God, is that?"

* * *

 _United Nations Headquarters, New York City_

 _November 19_ _th_ _, 2016_

"This, is what we usually call a wormhole."

Dr. Yuri Einbrecher cleared his throat. In front of the whole United Nations, he was more than impressed, though he was used to present conferences in the scientific community. But this exercise, before the representatives of one hundred and ninety-three different countries, was much more complicated indeed.

"Wormholes, that we can in this case also call an Einstein-Rosen bridge, can link two different points of spacetime, and thus allow us to travel back in time. Indeed, the impact of two accelerated particles created such an amount of energy, and thus mass, that it bent enough spacetime to create a singularity, which caused the two periods to interact with one another."

There was a deadly silence, and when he looked into the eyes of the politicians around him, he read only questions. Clearly, no one had understood anything... He looked desperately at his colleagues on his right for help.

Dr. Sarah Hugo rolled her eyes. She hated this. This whole thing was a bad idea. Time-travel was too dangerous, too chaotic, too unpredictable. A million things could go wrong, and they barely understood a tiny piece of the ocean of knowledge they would have to muster to reach a basic comprehension of this phenomenon. But Yuri was drowning out there, and though she hated the man, she couldn't let him be ridiculous, it was too cruel.

She stood up, and walked towards Yuri, taking his place in front of the delegates of the whole United Nations. She took a deep breath, before diving.

"I know it's complicated, and to be fully honest, we don't understand much either to this phenomenon."

Everyone was listening to her now. She could hear her French accent even heavier than it usually was as her voice was shaking slightly.

"What you have to understand, it is that time is not universal. Time is merely a coordinate, just like latitudes and longitudes to describe a place on a map. Well, to define one particular place in spacetime, in the entire universe that is, you need to know its spatial coordinates, so latitudes and longitudes if you want... But you also need to know the moment, the time corresponding to this place. Now, in the LHC, we created lots and lots of energy, when we forced two particles that where moving very fast to collide into one another. This energy has created a passage between two different points. It not only linked two points on the planet, but also on two different moments of History."

She walked towards the closest delegate, and picked up a sheet of paper.

"You can imagine that spacetime is this sheet of paper, right?"

She asked the politician to hold the sheet above the desk for her, and he obliged.

"In our period, at this very instant, and at this special place in the world, we are here."

She rested her fingertip in the middle of the piece of paper.

"But imagine now that we have so much energy, that this energy, transforming into a mass..."

She felt that she was losing a few politicians...

"Well this energy, just energy..."

The politicians focused on her again.

"This energy is so important that this sheet of paper upon which my finger is resting cannot carry so much energy, it's too heavy. So it bends. Okay? In a very logical way, if you put something heavy in the middle..."

She pushed with her fingertip upon the sheet, and the paper curved under the pressure of her index.

"...it bends. But if it bends enough..."

She continued to push further on the paper sheet, until finally her fingertip touched the desk throughout the paper.

"... it touches another point of spacetime. So now, my finger not only touches the paper, it also touches the desk. I have just created a passage, a bridge, between the paper, and the desk, because now they're touching. Well, actually, that's exactly what happened. Unless instead of touching this desk, we touched the eighteenth century."

She saw several delegates nodding, apparently understanding at least enough to picture the possibility of time-travel.

"Now, the problem is, we do not understand in which circumstances it happened. It is theoretically not possible. Wormholes are supposed to exist in black holes, and should have never happened in the LHC. We do not know what happens on the other side of the wormhole, and we do not know how to control it. We have managed to stabilize our side of the bridge, but not the other side. We do not know if a living organism can survive to the travel. And more importantly, we do not know what our actions, if we actually manage to send someone there, will have as consequences upon History. It could change nothing, like it could change everything. It could create a time loop, or simply let the time flowing by, we have no idea of what is going to happen."

The delegate for Italy cleared her throat.

"You do not sound very convincing," she pointed out.

Sarah through a cautious look at Yuri, before answering.

"I, for one, do not think it's a good idea. I belong to the minority among the scientific community that thinks that time is too important to be played with. I think there are too may parameters we cannot control, and the stakes are too important. We could change History, create a completely new chain of events."

Yuri cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the politicians back to him.

"It's true, there are many risks," he said slowly in his heavy German accent. "But you must also think about what such a breakthrough could bring us. We could understand not only this phenomenon, but the entire physics. We could understand the evolution of the climate, and act against the global warming. We could not only understand it actually, we could act before it all happens. We could study and witness the greatest events of History..."

"Or prevent them to happen," Sara interrupted him.

But Yuri ignored her, and went on anyway.

"The breakthroughs, if we could study this phenomenon completely, would be formidable. The greatest leap humanity would have ever done. All we need, is your final agreement. Everything is ready to make the first contact. The tests that we ran last night brought us more than we had ever expected, everything worked perfectly. You have already allowed us to build everything we needed to travel, now, you must let us use it, and go there."

"If anything goes wrong, it would be catastrophic," Sarah replied. "And we don't know how the people in the eighteenth century, who don't even have electricity, nor any concept of quantum physics or relativity, upon which all these is resting, will react. And this period is a crucial one, particularly at the place where we could go. We must not take the risk. We could prevent the creation of a whole country!"

The American politician leaned towards his microphone.

"Why do you want to go to this particular moment then. Why not start with only a travel of a few years?"

"Because we have no idea how it all happened, which means that we cannot control where we are going," Sarah replied. "All we can do for now, is recreate the circumstances under which it happened accidentally five years ago. But we cannot chose where we are travelling to. It's like entering in an elevator in a building with a hundred floors, but the only elevator you can use can carry you to the fourth floor. You can either go nowhere, and don't go in the elevator, or take the elevator, and go up to the fourth floor. But that's it. We only can go to this place at this time, and no other."

"Not for now," Yuri added. "And the only way to open up new possibilities is to understand the phenomenon, and for that, we need to experiment."

"And where exactly will you go again?" asked the delegate from India.

"We can go in Boston, two hundred and fifty-one years, three months, five days and six minutes from now," Sarah answered, "We would not travel to _one_ date, but always two hundred years before now. Time keeps flowing in the same way for both our periods. Yesterday, we opened the bridge, it was the thirteenth of August for them. Twenty four hours later, today, if we open the bridge again, we will establish a link between today and the _fourteenth_ of August for them. Do you understand? We don't jump to the same point every time, we always make a jump of the exact same length."

She looked around her at all the politicians. This was not about science, and she hoped they could understand her point. It was not about science, it was about Humanity.

"This is the period of the first sparks that ignited the War of Independence in the United States. We should not take the risk to go to this period of time, and change History. If we change anything, the United States may never be created. All the actions this Nation has taken afterwards would probably not happen either. We cannot know what History will be like if we go back in time and change something. And we can't merely go back in time and hide, the breach created is too big, and we will need lots of equipment. We will need the help of the people of Boston of the eighteenth century if we want to travel through time."

There was a rumour across the room, and soon all the delegates were talking with each other, cacophony filling up the air. Eventually, calm was brought back to the room, and the Secretary-General spoke slowly.

"We should take some time, before taking any decision. We shall all gather again in three days, and we will take a vote then, to decide if we should try this mission, or abort it."

They all started to stand, leaving. Sarah heaved a deep sigh. Three more days to wait...

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _August 20_ _th_ _, 1765._

John Hancock opened slowly the door of the inn. He finally put the handkerchief he had used to breathe in whilst he was still in the dirty and stinking street back in his pocket. How could people live in such a pestilent place?

The moment he entered the Green Dragon, everyone in the tavern froze, and a deafening silence soon covered the place. Next to the bar, a stout Irish figure stood suddenly straighter, glaring at Hancock.

" _Hey you!_ " cried Kelly across the room to Hancock, who seemed scared that if he touched anything in the inn he might soil his expensive cloths. " _I think you might be a bit lost._ "

He advanced towards Hancock, putting down his pint of beer upon the bar.

" _Yes..._ " answered Hancock in a slow tone that never left his voice. " _I am looking for Sam Adams. I heard he might be here._ "

Kelly walked closer to him, his expression clearly threatening now.

" _And where did you hear that?_ "

" _My good man,_ " Hancock answered in his slow voice, trying to calm him down, " _I don't want any trouble. I was just hoping I could have a discussion with Mr. Adams about some... business._ "

Kelly was now very close to him, trying to intimidate him, and it was clearly working.

" _Is that so?_ " Kelly asked him slowly in a lower voice.

Hancock merely nodded slowly in response.

" _Is he here?_ " he asked the Irishman, trying to sound casual.

A voice echoed from the back of the inn.

" _Relax Kelly,_ " Sam told his friend.

" _Mr. Adams,_ " Hancock greeted him as Kelly was letting him approach Sam and offered him his open hand. " _My name is John Hancock..._ "

" _I know who you are,_ " replied coldly Sam, not shaking the gentleman's hand. " _I don't know what you're doing here._ "

" _Well..._ "

Hancock looked around him at all these men who were staring at them, listening closely to the conversation. But what he wanted to offer Sam Adams was not meant to be heard by any eavesdroppers...

" _Can we talk in private?_ "

Sam looked at the men drinking in the inn as well, before nodding to Kelly.

" _Would you mind?_ "

Kelly made them all clear the room.

" _Oh, no, no, no... There's no need to clear the establishment,_ " said Hancock, as everyone was passing next to him to get out. " _Thank you very much. Thank you very much._ "

Soon, there was only Hancock, Sam and Kelly left in the tavern. The Irishman walked pass Hancock, heading towards the back of the inn.

" _Thank you, my good man,_ " Hancock told him as he was passing next to him.

Kelly turned towards Sam, and gave him a rough pat on the shoulder. Sam nodded reassuringly. He could handle Hancock. Kelly soon disappeared, and Sam went sitting down at a table. Hancock remained standing near the door.

" _Thank you, Mr. Adams. I say it was quite the show you put on the other night, with all those men all following you._ "

His voice was slow and over-polite. It was the voice of someone who was ready to say anything as long as it was in his own interest. And Sam didn't like this voice at all. This man seemed to be too much driven by his own wealth to think about anything or anyone else, and clearly Sam wasn't ready to trust him. But he was still curious to know what in the name of God someone like John Hancock could possibly do here, at the Green Dragon, looking for him.

" _So everybody keeps saying,_ " Sam merely answer, offering Hancock to sit down by a quick gesture of the hand.

" _Thank you,_ " answered Hancock, hurrying to sit down at Sam's table. "I have heard you were among those who saw... what happened, in the square."

"I was indeed."

"I didn't see it myself, I'm afraid. But I have heard it was quite impressive. The priests say it was a warning coming from the devil."

Sam took a deep breath, annoyed by the conversation. He was merely losing his time for the moment.

"Well, I don't know for one what it was, nor how it came here. I merely witnessed it. God only knows what we were supposed to understand to this... thing."

"I reckon you are right, Mr. Adams, only God knows..."

"Have you really come here to ask me about that night, Mr. Hancock?"

There was a short silence, before Hancock would speak slowly again, looking carefully at Adams.

" _It seems you have become quite the nuisance to my friend the Governor._ "

Indeed, Governor Hutchinson had come two days ago in his own house, without announcing himself, and had clearly threatened him to stop their agreement concerning customs duties if he didn't take care of Samuel Adams. So now, if he wanted to keep making money, he had to make sure that Adams would not endanger the Governor's affairs again.

" _Oh... So you're Hutchinson's messenger..._ " Sam replied slowly, smiling as he was finally starting to understand the Governor's scheme.

But Hancock shook his head, blinking.

" _Oh... no, no, no, I mean... no, not really..._ "

" _Then what?_ " asked Sam quite aggressively, leaning forward on the table, coming closer to Hancock.

" _Well, I...,_ " Hancock stuttered calmly. " _I am here as someone interested in the continued_

 _peace and tranquillity of the colony._ "

Sam propped up an eyebrow, letting out a breathy laugh.

" _Peace and tranquillity? In Boston?_ "

He picked up his beer, carrying it slowly towards his mouth.

" _Mr. Hancock, I've lived in Boston my entire life... and I think that's the single stupidest thing I've ever heard._ "

He drank up, whilst Hancock was smiling wryly.

" _Some would say I am simply an optimist._ "

" _I heard money would do that to you,_ " Sam snapped back, putting his pint back on the table and leaning back in his chair.

Hancock stared at him, and it was his turn to lean towards Sam.

" _I know about your problems,_ " he told him slowly, being careful in his choice of words. " _I know about the warrant, I know about the debt... What if I could help you? What if I could get rid of the warrant, pay off the debt... All it would take from you is a quick visit to the courthouse._ "

" _And why..._ " asked Sam slowly, narrowing his eyes. " _Why would you be willing to do that for me?_ "

" _Well, because, in return, you will_ promise _to help end this madness in the streets, and help Governor Hutchinson restore sanity to Boston._ "

" _You... think that I have the power to do that?_ "

" _I know you have the power to do that._ "

They stared at each other in the eyes for while, before Hancock would speak again, shrugging.

" _The Governor is a... a friend of mine._ "

A grin appeared on his face, that was probably supposed to be seductive somehow, but was merely ridiculous. Sam stood up, and turned his back to Hancock, his head low, thinking. He couldn't say that he trusted the man, he seemed to self-centred to be trustworthy. But who else could make his debt disappear?

" _What say you?_ " Hancock asked him after a while.

Sam spun around, facing Hancock again.

" _I think it sounds fair enough,_ " he answered, offering Hancock his opened hand.

Hancock rose quickly, shaking enthusiastically Sam's strong hand.

" _I also think that sounds fair enough,_ " he said. " _Very good. Thank you, good day Mr. Adams,_ " he added, heading for the door.

He turned one last time towards Sam, snapping his fingers.

" _It is as easy as that._ "

He walked out of the inn, a satisfied smirk on his face. Hutchinson wouldn't have to worry about Samuel Adams anymore, and he wouldn't have to worry about taxes and customs duties. Everything was ending well, very well indeed...

Kelly reappeared behind Sam.

" _What was that?_ " he asked his friend.

" _I think that might be my ticket out of jail..._ " Sam answered slowly, his narrowed eyes still fixed upon the wooden door.

Sam turned quickly towards Kelly, the ghost of a smirk upon his lips.

" _Drink?_ "

Kelly smiled back at him, but before he could pick up a beer for him and his friend, doctor Joseph Warren came rushing into the inn. He was out of breath, his brow wet with sweat.

"It's happening again!" he cried.

There was fear in his blue eyes, and his voice was shaky.

"Where?" asked Sam urgently, knowing perfectly what the doctor meant.

"In the square again. You have to see this."

Kelly threw a hat at Sam to hide his face, and they strode out of the tavern, heading towards the square, Sam keeping the collar of his coat close to his cheeks, his head low.

In the square, a huge crowd had already gathered. Most of them were praying, and when the three men took sight of the thing that had appeared above the ground, they couldn't blame them to do so. A gigantic, dark hole was levitating there, a few feet above the dirty pavement. It was like a flat sphere of darkness, standing in the middle of nothing. The Governor was there as well, along with the British Captain who had run after Sam a few nights ago. But before such a thing, Sam was pretty sure the officer wouldn't have cared about him, even if he had presented himself to him, offering him his wrists to be chained up. The wind seemed to be drawn into the dark gap, and suddenly, the phenomenon seemed to be even stronger. Sam's hat flew away, but no one was looking towards him anyway, and all in the square were transfixed by the sudden roar that seemed to be coming out of the hole.

And suddenly, something came out of it...

Shouts echoed throughout the crowd, everyone was terrified at the sight of the white cubic chest on the ground.

A second later, there was a thud noise, and the dark sphere was gone.

The priest commanded to pray even more, and many did. Hutchinson turned towards his Aide, and ordered to the soldiers to go take a closer look at the chest.

The Captain sent one of his men, who walked slowly towards the object, pale as sheets.

He touched it with the tip of his boot, but nothing happened. He kicked it, but the chest merely slipped slightly upon the ground, and remained motionless in the mud.

"Try to open it," ordered the officer.

Indeed, the chest could clearly be opened easily, and the soldier rested the tip of his fingers upon the lid, and again nothing happened.

"No!" cried the priest. "It must be the making of the Devil, we must not touch it. We must resist temptation..."

Hutchinson turned towards the soldier, who was looking questioningly at him.

"Open it," he commanded.

And slowly, the soldier lifted the lid...

He frowned when he saw what was inside.

"What is it?" asked Hutchinson.

"It's a letter, and... what seems to be newspapers, Sir."

"Newspapers?"

Hutchinson walked towards him. Indeed, inside the chest, was a quite big envelope, with several newspapers, but the paper and the ink seemed strange... His eyes grew wide when he read the date upon the first page.

"Close it back," he ordered. "You, help him carrying it to my house."

The designated soldier hurried to help his fellow military man.

"Now, everyone please, go back to your homes," ordered Hutchinson to the crowd. "We will study this... chest, and inform the King, who will undoubtedly know what we ought to do. For now, please, get back to your homes."

The crowd dissipated slowly, and Sam, Warren and Kelly hurried away before the soldiers could notice Sam's presence.

"Do you think the priest is right? Do you think it comes from the Devil?" Kelly asked the two men.

Warren only shrugged.

"I do not know any form of science that could explain such a thing."

Sam shook his head.

"Whatever it may be, it can't be anything good for us."

* * *

 _LHC, Switzerland_

 _November 25_ _th_ _, 2016._

"Five..."

The countdown had begun, the scientists were about to open the wormhole again. Sarah heaved a deep sigh. This whole thing was madness.

"Four..."

The danger was so great, anything could go wrong, they had no idea about the consequences of their actions, they had no idea about the impact of their actions on the past, and thus upon the present too.

"Three..."

But as always, no one was listening. She was a scientist too, she wanted to know, to discover, to study, like every single person in the room. But there were things in the universe that deserved to remain untouched, for the cost to knowledge was too high.

"Two..."

Yuri rested his hand upon the backrest of her chair, and she looked up at him. God, she hated this man... With his selfish smirk, and his ridiculous moustache, and this glint in his eyes that seemed to keep telling you that you were nothing to him but scum. He was playing the role of God in a risky play he had written himself, but to which he had no ending yet.

"One..."

This was the biggest mistake in the history of Humanity.

"Engage procedure."

A second later, the wormhole was formed in the giant tunnel of the LHC.

"The structure is stable," Sarah said out loud, analysing quickly the stream of data that came rushing upon the screens before her.

"Phase two," Yuri ordered.

Soon, a robot was approaching the bridge, a white chest held in its mechanical fist.

"Deliver the package," Yuri ordered again.

Sarah glimpsed at him over her shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked one last time.

"This is the future, right before us Dr. Hugo," he answered in his heavy German accent. "Of course, I'm sure."

The rest of the team was already guiding the robot closer to the dark hole anyway. And Sarah closed her eyes.

The next second, the white chest had been sent more than two hundred years before, in Boston.

And it was too late to go back now...

* * *

"I can't believe we've done that. We should have never participated to the whole thing anyway."

Michael Redcraft drank up a new glass of Vodka, the liquid burning his throat, and drowning his anger. The little pub sounded so loud all of a sudden...

"If we hadn't, we would have no power whatsoever to try to convince them," answered James Williamson.

"Well, that was very useful!" answered Michael wryly. "Now, they have sent... no sorry, _we_ have sent a box asking to our ancestors to welcome us to their time period!"

His voice broke, tears blurring his vision.

"And we're taking the risk that my country would never be founded..."

Sarah patted encouragingly his shoulder.

"I know Michael, but it doesn't mean that we can't act anymore."

James furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean? Maybe you will be able to analyse data, as you're one of the main physicists on the project, and as both Michael and I are engineers, we will keep an eye on the equipment, but we have no power on their decision, or at least not enough to make them see reason."

"James is right," Michael shook his head. "There's nothing more we can do to stop them."

But Sarah shook slowly her head, a determined glint alit in her blue electric eyes.

"They will not stop there, the next step will be to send people, a whole team, to study both the world at this period of History, and the Einstein-Rosen bridge. And I'll volunteer."

Her two friends were frozen on the spot.

"You can't be serious..." said James, a nervous smile upon his lips. "This is so risky!"

"Well, for once, I have to agree with the Queen," Michael answered, drawing a kick from James under the table, but he merely ignored him.

"It's the only way to keep an eye on what they're doing. And I won't let the fate of Humankind in the hands of someone like Yuri! He's selfish, and will probably not hesitate to disturb the timeline to protect himself."

She shook her head again.

"Maybe it's dangerous. If I survive to the journey, I could probably die of a toothache there, but it's not what is important. I can't let History be influenced by someone like Yuri, and in particular in such an important period. If things don't happen as they have already happened in our timeline, the United States will never exist. And I can't let that happen."

She stared at her empty glass of Vodka.

"The United States may not have always taken good decisions in their history, but they are among the most defining nations in the world. If this country is not founded, everything could change. We could lose the two World Wars, and James like myself would probably be German instead of English and French. The whole History would be changed, and I'm not sure it would be changed for the better. Anyway, I won't take the risk to find out."

Michael and James exchanged a glance. They knew her by heart, and they knew this look in her eyes. Nothing and no one on this Earth would make her change her mind, she was way too stubborn. Michael heaved a sigh.

"I can't believe we're going to travel through time..."

Sarah looked up at her friends.

"You're not coming!" she stated.

"If you're going, we're going too," replied Michael.

"No way, this is too dangerous!"

"It's precisely why we won't let you go there on your own."

James took her hand in his.

"Do you remember, our first in the U.S.?" he said slowly. "Michael took us to this horrid pub downtown, in Boston."

"That was the worst hangover of my life..." Sarah smiled, remembering the day she had met her two best friends.

"We've never left each other since this day, we were only students by then, we were in college..."

Michael took her other hand.

"We stick together, right? Always."

"'One for all...'" James smiled.

And Sarah smiled back at him, tears in her eyes. This two men were her best friends, and the most extraordinary persons in the world. And when she answered, finishing the famous line from Dumas's novel, her voice was made hoarse by emotion.

"'...Et tous pour un.'"

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _August 26_ _th_ _, 1765._

Governor Hutchinson was beginning to be slightly panicked. He had no idea whatsoever of what he was supposed to think about the documents lying upon his desk. It was crazy to believe, and yet he couldn't find any other explanation to what he was witnessing. The documents came from the future... The dates upon the newspapers, but also the illustrations that were clearly not paintings or engravings, and yet appeared in vivid colours, the type of paper, even the length of the newspapers in itself, everything... Everything seemed to be unexplainable, except by this mad theory. And the letter was quite explicit. He had witnessed the phenomenon with his own eyes, and could attest of its veracity, all this was real, and not a product of the mind, it was palpable, tangible, just like the ground under his feet. And he couldn't believe this was happening, and happening to him... As if he had not enough problems with the Colony already. In London, many were those who were after his head, and the new problem with Samuel Adams was far from improving the already delicate situation. And now this... But he had no choice, not with the chest. He had to send it to London, like it was asked in the letter he had found in the white chest, and do it quickly. With Samuel Adams, well, he had asked to John Hancock, and he merely hoped the businessman would get rid of him soon. He couldn't notice the King of more trouble in the Colony, or they would have his head this time, for sure.

Suddenly, he was torn away from his thoughts, as someone was knocking on the door of his office. The servant announced Mr. Hancock, and Hutchinson hoped to finally hear a good news after these horrid two weeks.

" _Ha, Mr. Hancock,_ " he greeted the gentleman, offering him a seat.

" _Governor._ "

Hutchinson forced a smile. God, how this slow and polite voice was annoying...

" _Welcome. How is it with our problem?_ "

Though Hancock was now sitting comfortably in a chair, Hutchinson remained standing.

Hancock snapped his fingers, a smirk on his face.

" _Resolved._ "

Hutchinson propped up an eyebrow.

" _So soon?_ " he asked, surprised.

Hancock merely nodded.

" _Good..._ " said Hutchinson, his face neutral again. " _Please, share a glass of wine with me._ "

" _Well, thank you._ "

Hancock looked cautiously at the Governor while he was pouring down some red wine in two crystal glass. He had to be very careful in his choice of words for this indeed, very careful...

" _Now Governor,_ " Hancock said slowly, " _I made a deal, you see..._ "

" _A deal? What sort of deal?_ "

He could hear in Hutchinson's voice anger already. And he couldn't say he liked it.

" _I have paid off Mr. Adams's debt..._ "

" _You did what?_ " cried the Governor, aghast.

" _...and in return,_ " Hancock went on, ignoring Hutchinson's outburst, " _he has promised to keep his mob under control._ "

" _He has prom..._ " started Hutchison, but he was too amazed to continue.

" _He has promised,_ " Hancock repeated.

The Governor was now furious, his voice shaking with anger.

" _I appointed Adams to collect taxes for me, for the Crown, a noble profession,_ " he said to Hancock, his face reddening with outrage, whilst the merchant was merely nodding. " _And instead, he gives the money straight back to his debtbeat associates, he eludes a warrant for his arrest, and leads an angry mob to destroy my home, and_ you _reward him with immunity!_ "

Hancock rested his gaze on the corner of Hutchinson's desk, as the tone of the Governor was not at all to his liking.

" _Governor,_ " he said slowly, trying to ease Hutchinson's mind, though his own tone sounded annoyed, " _I have solved your problem. Adams and his men will not be bothering you anymore._ "

" _Where is your guarantee for that?_ " asked Hutchinson in an angry, breathy voice, resting his palms upon his desk, leaning forward towards Hancock. " _Do you realize what you've done? How can you be so naive?_ "

" _Governor please..._ "

Hutchinson heaved an angry sigh, before chasing the businessman away with a quick gesture of the hand.

" _Be off with you!_ "

" _Well, very well..._ " Hancock merely answered, standing slowly.

He walked in a slow pace towards the door, and Hutchinson pressed him to leave by walking close behind him, but it didn't seem to bother Hancock, who merely walked out of the room at the slow rhythm that seemed to characterize his whole persona.

" _Good day,_ " he told the Governor, before finally exiting the room.

Hutchinson closed quickly the doors behind him, and strode back towards his desk, furious, taking off his wig.

" _Unbelievable..._ " he muttered under his breath.

He sat down, and started to write quickly his note for London.

" _Sir, I'm not sure it is quite prudent,_ " his Aide pointed out.

" _I'm the damn Governor!_ " Hutchinson replied. " _Anything I do, or say, is prudent._ "

He quickly folded the letter, and handed it to his aide.

" _Put it on the first ship._ "

The Governor took a look at the white chest right next to his desk, before quickly folding up the newspapers and the long letters he had found inside, and putting them back in the chest. He closed the lid.

"And this too. On the first ship, and quickly. The faster we'll get rid of it, the better."

But something was telling him that he would get rid of nor the chest, nor Adams so soon...

* * *

"Thank you Abigail," Sam smiled at the ginger woman who was handing him a piece of pie.

She smiled back at him, whilst her husband was still trying to focus upon the document of his court case.

"What is it all about anyway?" Sam asked his cousin.

John Adams looked up at him.

"You know perfectly I can't answer that question."

"Oh yes, of course, secrecy..."

"Exactly."

"The guest quarters are ready Samuel," Abigail Adams told her husband's cousin.

"Thank you."

Samuel looked down at his pie for a while. He didn't like to have to stay at his cousin's house, but he didn't really have a choice. He had to keep a low profile for a while, try to get back on his feet, find something to do. Now that Hancock had taken care of the warrant, he could think about the future again. Or well, try to at least. He glimpsed over at the painting of his wife upon the wall, and felt his throat tightening again. Since she had died, he had been nothing but a drunk, and he knew it. But despite what Abigail said, he wasn't ready to settle down again. He didn't want anyone else, and he wasn't sure he would ever love again. It had hurt him too much to lose her. And though he was trying to get back on his feet, he simply couldn't forget the life he had almost had, and it was slowly killing him.

"Have you heard what Hutchinson said this afternoon?" John suddenly asked him, finally giving up his case. "About the chest?"

Sam shook his head, chewing his cake.

"He said it came from the future."

Sam froze, before exploding in laughter.

"You can't be serious..."

"I'm deadly serious Sam. Now, think about it. Who knows what we may have invented in the future, we may have invented a... a machine, or a device to travel through time."

"Of course not..."

"Then what the whole thing was?"

Sam merely shrugged.

"It is not a less plausible explanation than the theory of our priest, who says it's a portal created by the Devil," added John.

"I don't know John," Sam answered, his voice bitter again. "But I don't see why anyone from the future would like to come here. There's nothing here, except starvation and suffering."

John and Abigail exchanged a glance.

"You can't keep thinking like that Sam," John told him.

But Sam shook his head.

"What should I think about all the families who have no money to eat then? About all these people out of work? About all these taxes? About all this injustice?"

John merely sighed.

"That's how things are, and you can't do anything against it. It's the law Sam, and the law is the only thing that protect us from chaos."

"These laws don't protect us from anything, they're only unfair."

"They are still laws."

"Well...Maybe if a law is unfair, we should change it. And if the King doesn't want to turn it into something fairer, we should change it ourselves."

Husband and wife exchanged another look, before Sam would finish his glass of wine, and start to rise from his chair.

"You don't want to finish your meal?" asked Abigail, nodding towards the piece of pie Sam had barely touched.

"Thank you Abigail, it was delicious," he answered. "But I'm not that hungry anymore."

He walked out of the room, and hurried upstairs to his room.

"He's so angry all the time..." John said, more to himself than to his wife.

She stood up, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing his back against her stomach.

"He just wants things to be better, for everyone."

"But he speaks about breaking the law... He could get into trouble, big trouble. And God only knows how he managed to find the money to pay his debt."

Despite the strict tone he often used with his cousin, Abigail knew he was close to him, and cared about him more than he would ever admit it.

"I'm sure he'll be just fine, sooner or later..."

* * *

 _London, England_

 _October, 1765_

Benjamin Franklin hurried throughout the corridor. The young lad who was guiding him across the Parliament was impressively quick, and the elder man had to admit he would have enjoyed quite handsomely a slower pace. But he couldn't really complain. He had finally been called, undoubtedly concerning the mysterious chest that had appeared in Boston, and had arrived a few days ago in London. Though the members of the Parliament were not really to his liking, the excitement of this scientific mystery was rising his mood. And if the price to pay to examine the object was a quick talk with the members of the British Parliament, then it would be a quite fair price indeed. He took a deep breath, before nodding to the young boy to open the doors, ready to dive into the pool full of sharks...

He walked towards Lord North, smiling.

"Ah, Dr. Franklin," the Lord greeted him. "I am glad you were able to attend to this meeting so quickly."

"It is always a pleasure to help, your Excellency. In whatever ways you may be requiring my services."

"Actually, I will require your help in several matters today."

Franklin merely smiled, holding back his disappointment. This little voice in his head was telling him he wasn't going to hear what he had come here for.

"I have received a note from the Colony a few days ago. And I have to say that it's content let me quite... uncertain."

The Prime Minister looked at Franklin as if he was already blaming him for all the things that were troubling him.

"It would seem that there has been an unbearable unrest in the Colony, and particularly in Boston. An angry mob has destroyed the Governor's house, tearing the place apart. Apparently, they would have even destroyed the painting of our good King!"

Fury was burning in his little beady eyes, his cheeks reddening under the powder.

" _Your Excellency,_ " Franklin answered with his most diplomatic tone, trying to calm Lord North down, " _for every miscreant or troublemaker in Boston, there are a hundred of tradesmen and merchants, loyal to the King._ "

" _Then why all this unrest?_ " asked the Prime Minister, still outraged.

Franklin answered slowly, offering his opened palms in sign of appeasement.

" _Too many taxes, and too little work. People are hungry..._ "

" _And so they destroy the Governor's house...?_ " interrupted Lord North.

" _If the populace isn't given a chance to prosper,_ " Franklin tried to explain slowly, " _why then, unrest and even violence... is inevitable._ "

" _Our source has been telling us of a charismatic leader involved..._ "

" _Allow me to correspond with my contacts in Massachusetts,_ " Franklin proposed." _And I will gladly get to the bottom of this unrest and... put an end to it._ "

"Actually Dr. Franklin, you will go yourself to Boston."

Franklin couldn't refrain his eyebrow to arch up.

"Indeed, you will," Lord North repeated. "I think your presence there could improve the complicated situation with the Colonists. But your services will also be needed there for another matter."

He picked up a letter upon the long table around which he and his colleague used to sit to take the decisions that would dictate the laws throughout the Kingdom.

"I am sure you have learnt about a mysterious chest..."

Curiosity ignited Franklin's gaze again.

"Indeed, I have, your Excellency."

"Several of our finest scientists have inspected the content of the chest, and they are unanimous. This chest seems to be coming from the future, as hard as it seems to be conceived by our minds, it seems to be true nonetheless. The King has decided to take part in the establishment of a relationship between their men of science and ours. And... I think I recall you describing yourself as a man of science, Dr. Franklin."

"I think I could be described that way, indeed."

"Then, you shall leave next week for Boston. You will help Governor Hutchinson restore peace and obedience in the city, and will also be in charge of establishing communication and trust between people of the two times."

He handed him the letter.

"You will have full access to the content of the chest, and can study the items before your departure."

Despite the fact that he was sent in his homeland to stop an insurrection he agreed with, Franklin was more than excited at the idea of studying this whole strange event of dark portals and chest travelling through time. He bent slightly to the gentlemen, and walked out of the room, both anxious and content.

But the excitement caused by the content of the chest was soon not enough to ease his mind and draw his thoughts away from the fate of his hometown. Indeed, only two days after his interview with Lord North, a note from the Parliament was sent to his house, noticing him of the day and hour of his departure for the Colony. And when he recognised the name of the warship, he knew only evil things would come out of it. His anxiousness became actual fear when he learned before the end of that day that a new decree had been established, giving full right to the officers and soldiers of His Majesty to enter any shop, or seize any ship or good that would have listed as prohibited, or upon which full payment of customs duties would have not yet been made. He had tried to explain them, but the Lords were too blind to the need of the people in the Colony to see the truth. When the Colony would have needed help, they were receiving only punishment. They were tightening the knot around their throat that was already to tight for them to breathe. And there was only one thing a choking man could do: struggle to resist.

* * *

 _LHC, Switzerland_

 _June, 2017._

"Structure stable, we're good."

Sarah's voice was shaking. She hoped they would not answer. In the missive they had sent through the wormhole, they had asked them to send back a response into the very chest the group of scientists had used to transport safely their own documents. If no response came at all, it would mean that they either didn't want to work with them, either had not dared to open the chest. And she hoped nothing would pass this dark hole.

She looked at the screens before her again, checking the stability of the bridge. They couldn't maintain the passage open for more than a few minutes, the huge solenoids they were using to create an electromagnetic field powerful enough to keep the gap open were consuming too much energy already. She noticed the numbers slowly decreasing on the screen on her right.

"We're losing power," she said.

"Wait for it," Yuri replied.

She exchanged a glance with Michael, who was sitting on her left, checking the screens as well.

"We won't be able to keep it stable for long now," the engineer said.

"Wait," repeated Yuri.

On her right, James held her hand.

Nothing could pass this bridge, nothing could pass this bridge, nothing...

A white chest flew out of the hole. Everyone cheered, except for the three friends.

"I'm closing it now," Sarah announced above the chaotic noises.

Only a few minutes later, the scientists were getting down into the large tube out of which was made the LHC, and carried out the chest. Yuri put it on a large table, all his colleagues gathered around him. After a series of measurement, James nodded. There were no dangerous radiations emanating from the chest, Yuri could open it.

Slowly, he unlocked the chest, and lifted the lid.

A new unbearably long series of measurements, whilst everyone in the room was staring eagerly at the single sealed letter that was resting in the bottom of the chest.

James nodded once more.

Yuri hurried to pick up the piece of paper, and broke the seal. He read it through twice, barely believing the words he was reading, his eyes wet with tears.

"They're accepting to help."

* * *

She knocked on the door of his office, and he grinned at the French scientist when he recognised her.

"What may I do for you Sarah?" Yuri asked her as she was entering his office.

"You've asked for volunteers, to organize a first expedition," she said, sitting down.

"Indeed, I have."

"Well, I volunteer."

He propped up an eyebrow.

"Well... To say that I am surprised would be a euphemism," he answered, still amazed. "You have always fought against the very idea of time-travel."

"And yet, here I am..."

"I cannot accept your candidacy though..."

"You will do more than accept my candidacy, you will take me in your team," she interrupted him, her voice deadly cold. "And James and Michael are coming with us too."

"I can't do this," he shook his head.

She leaned forward in her chair, staring at him. Her gaze was alit with fury, her jaws clenched, but when she spoke her tone was calm and her threat was cold and terrible.

"We both know you can't say no. I reckon that after everything that has happened, you can't say no."

"And yet, I can hardly take with me three scientists who are opposed to the very project, not when there are dozens who are more than willing to come."

"If you don't take us with you, I'll tell everything to the journalists."

Yuri froze.

"You have no proofs, you're bluffing," he answered, but his voice was shaky.

"I'm not an idiot, of course I have proofs. Did you really think that I would not cover my back?"

Yuri struggled to swallow.

"If you don't take us with you, I will tell everyone the truth. And I don't reckon you will like the consequences of such a revelation to the entire scientific community."

She nodded towards the Nobel Prize on his desk.

"You'd better take a good look at it while you can. Because I don't think they will leave it to you, once they know what really happened in the LHC that day."

Yuri clenched his jaws.

"And you will also include in your next message to the eighteenth century that you are stating that we are all going to remain out of their business. We will not give them any information about anything that has not already happened during their time period, and we will not take part of any military, political, or social movement whatsoever. And if they don't agree, then we won't come."

"Do you realize what you're doing?"

"Yes, I'm doing what is necessary to preserve the timeline."

"You're blackmailing me!"

"You've done much worse than blackmail Yuri."

He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.

"I guess I don't really have a choice then," he answered through gritted teeth.

She stood up, a disdainful expression on her face. He hated when she looked at him like this, with so much hate and pity.

"We always have a choice Yuri. You're just too selfish to do what is right every single time."

She walked away, and he stared at her silhouette disappearing in the corridor.

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _March, 1766._

Everyone had gathered around the square again. Benjamin Franklin was waiting excitedly alongside the Governor, who seemed quite annoyed by the whole thing. It was just one more problem to him. Through the crowd, he caught sight of Sam Adams, leaning against the wooden wall of a dirty house, his arms crossed upon his chest, his dark hair badly tightened, his long coat covered with mud and dust, his tired hat resting nonchalantly above his determined face. He seemed to feel the Governor's gaze, and looked at him, his dark eyes piercing Hutchinson to his very soul. God, he hated the man, he was such a thorn in his side...

"It should soon be time," mumbled Franklin next to him, holding tightly his quill, his eyes fixed on his watch, ready to note precisely the time of the opening of the bridge, like it had been asked in the letter they had received from 2017. 2017... Franklin could still hardly believe it, though everything was fitting perfectly, every piece of affirmation was proven, leaving no place whatsoever to doubt. He had already seen the hole with his own eyes, had thrown the chest back through time, and since, though the idea seemed still as crazy as the first time he had heard about this theory, he couldn't deny the truth.

Suddenly, there was a thud noise, and all the air seemed to be drawn towards the centre of the square. A second later, the dark hole had appeared once more.

Franklin wrote down the time. They were less than a minute late.

A white chest came out of the bridge again, and after only a few seconds, the wormhole was gone again.

Franklin hurried towards the chest, and two soldiers helped him to carry it to the Governor's house. The rest of the British soldiers remained around the square.

"How long do you think they will stay here?" Kelly asked Sam in a low voice, nodding towards an officer who was walking next to him.

"Warren heard them talking as he was in medical inspection for them, when they arrived at the harbour," Sam answered, almost whispering as well. "Apparently, they're here to stay, at least several months."

"They have been here for less than a week, and I already have a bad feeling about the whole thing."

"You're not the only one."

"They' re finishing to settle down, apparently. And whatever they have come here for, once they're settled, they'll be attending to it."

"And it can't be anything good for Boston, for sure."

Dr. Warren walked towards them, alongside John Adams.

"Is it true?" Sam asked his cousin. "About the law enforcement? Can soldiers come into any shop they want?"

John sighed, throwing a cautious look at Sam.

"I'm afraid it is."

"I can't believe it," mumbled Warren.

"Why? It's nothing surprising really," Sam replied to the doctor, his tone wry. "You're a doctor Joseph, you see what's going on in this town. They don't care if we don't eat, as long as we pay our taxes. But when you can't pay, instead of waiting for you to gather the money, they steal everything you have. As if you could pay their taxes once you're out of business..."

The four men remained silent for a while, looking at the soldiers walking through the crowd.

"Perhaps it won't be that bad..." mumbled John, more to reassure himself than addressing to the others.

"Don't get too much hope," Sam replied. "I don't think it's going to get better. Worse maybe, but undoubtedly not better."

* * *

 _LHC, Switzerland_

 _June, 2017._

Michael and James carried the chest through the room and put it down on the table. Now that things had been arranged with the eighteenth century, everything was going incredibly fast. They had had six months between their first message and the answer of the English government to prepare everything they would need for the first human travel. And anyway, they had been working on this phenomenon for years, now all they needed were some experiments. In their last package, they had sent a mouse, testing the effect on a living entity of time travel. Yuri quickly opened the lid of the white chest, and pulled out some notes, and a cage. Behind the bars of metal, the little white mouse was eating peacefully. Roars of cheers echoed throughout the room. Only Sara was remaining silent. She took a step closer to the table, examining the little animal. She felt both disappointed and guilty. She had never wished for anything to die in her life, until this very day.

Yuri put a hand on her shoulder.

"The chest is working, we can use this box we've created to travel ourselves. In three days, we'll be good to go."

Sarah nodded slowly, shrugging his hand off her shoulder.

"I just hope everything will be fine."

"Of course it will! We've prepared everything, we're ready to go. We'll be just safe."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes piercing right through him.

"I wasn't talking about us Yuri. I was talking about them," she said, showing him Benjamin Franklin's notes.

She looked down at the graceful writing of Benjamin Franklin. She had never thought she would ever hold the notes of such a man in her hands.

"I just hope they will be alright..."

* * *

The results of the tests on the mouse arrived the next day. It was perfectly healthy. They were good to go.

Along with Sarah, James, Michael and Yuri, Dr. Yoko Mori, from Japan, and Dr. Pablo Abril-Montoya, from Spain, were coming as well.

A rectangular box had been built, exact copy of the chest in its materials, only big enough to protect an adult. It had been equipped with wheels and a system of remote-controlling that would allow them to guide the box inside and outside the bridge. To this equipment they had already tested upon the mouse were added suits similar to those used by the NASA for its astronauts, that had been adapted to their use in the box, and would provide a good insurance, in case the box presented any lick or other problem during the trip. Photos and drawings were sent over to the old Boston, and distributed throughout the city, to make sure no one would panic at the sight of the coming scientists.

It was stated that the Einstein-Rosen bridge would be opened every three weeks, on Wednesdays, at six in the afternoon. For, to create the wormhole, they needed to recreate the collision of the two particles at high speed, which meant that they could only do it in the LHC. Once they would be in 1766, the six scientists would be on their own.

And finally, the big day arrived.

Everything was ready in both sides of the bridge. Ben Franklin, along with the Governor, had organized everything for their arrival, and the last tests and calculations were over. It was time for the departure.

After an exhausting morning surrounded by journalists, Sarah was now in her suit, checking one last time the bag she would be taking with her. The rest of their equipment would be sent over in the coming days. James sat down next to her, quickly followed by Michael.

"So..." James said slowly. "Ready to do the craziest thing in your life?"

Sarah shook her head.

"Not really."

"I'm kind of exciting actually," admitted Michael. "I mean, the whole thing is a terrible idea. But... we're going to travel through time! We could probably see some of the Founding Fathers!"

"We're going to meet Benjamin Franklin," Sarah nodded. "I have to admit, it is pretty cool!"

"Well, we will meet him if we survive, that is," replied casually James.

"Thank you for that one, mate," Michael answered wryly. "You can always count on our loyal Brit over there to lighten up our mood!"

"There's still one thing that is quite a shame I think," said Sarah, staring at the wall before her.

"What?" asked James.

"Well... we'll be travelling through time in a Box. I would have rather travelled in a DeLorean!"

They burst into laughter.

"Would you like us to call you 'Doc' then?" Michael teased her.

"That would be great indeed. At least I'll have the impression of travelling through time in a cool way."

They were still laughing when Yuri, Pablo and Yoko arrived.

"Are you ready?" asked Yuri.

They all nodded, and Yuri presented to them a little bag.

"We should let chance decide who goes first," he said.

They nodded, and all picked up a piece of paper upon which a number was written, defining the order in which they would travel. They all looked at their paper at the same time. James was fourth, Sarah second, and Michael...

"Well, looks like I'll be the one who's gonna be remembered as the first time-traveller!"

He forced a smile, but fear was shining in his eyes.

"No, I'll go first," said Sarah, offering him her paper.

But he shook his head. He would have rather taken the risk than let one of his best friends try first.

"I'll go, it's alright."

He took Sarah in his arms, and then James, before shaking hands with the rest of his colleagues. He put his helmet on.

Michael took one last look at his friends, before entering the Box, ready to go.

Inside the LHC, the two photons collided at full speed, and the wormhole appeared once more.

Michael guided the Box inside the bridge, and whilst holding hands, Sarah and James looked at their best friend disappearing into the dark circle.

And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.


	2. The Arrival

**Alright, here is a new chapter. Two scenes are taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Wednesday, I hope you like this chapter. Please, don't forget to review :)**

* * *

 **The Arrival**

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _March, 1766._

Benjamin Franklin entered the Green Dragon. The scent of alcohol and sweat filled up his senses, and he narrowed his eyes, searching through the crowd. He had heard the doctor might be there, as he wasn't at his own house. Soon, several men had noticed his presence, and seemed to stare at him with suspicious eyes. But Franklin had finally spotted the man he was looking for and thus was paying no attention to these insistent glances. Or at least he presumed he had spotted the doctor, considering his clean dark coat and his elegant, though sober clothing.

"Doctor Joseph Warren?" he asked the man.

"Yes?" Warren replied, turning his attention towards him.

Franklin smiled, offering him his hand.

"I'm Benjamin Franklin," he introduced himself, offering the young man his open hand. "I would like to talk to you for a minute, if it doesn't bother you too much."

"No, of course not Mr. Franklin," Warren answered, smiling and shaking Franklin's hand. "What may I do for you?"

Franklin glimpsed at the two men who were staring cautiously at him, but exposed his request nonetheless.

"I would need your medical aptitudes, doctor, if it doesn't bother you."

Franklin sat down at the table, and ordered a beer. He seemed incredibly at ease in the middle of this tavern, surrounded by drunk and dirty men, at least as much, if not even more, than with the British Parliament.

"I'm sure you know what is happening in this town. With the future, I mean," he told Warren as a pint was put on the table before him.

"I guess everyone in this city knows without really knowing," he answered, a small smile curving his lips.

"I have to admit, I don't know much myself," Franklin smiled as well. "But we have been able to communicate with the group of scientists from the future who are working on this project. And it would seem they are ready to come here."

He let his words sink in for a minute, conscious that by now, everyone in the room was listening to their conversation.

"Really?" asked Joseph, his eyes wide.

Franklin nodded.

"After such a journey, they will probably need medical attention. And I heard you were the doctor responsible for this part of town."

"I would be more than happy to take care of them."

Franklin gave him a bright smile.

"That's very kind of you. Now, they will arrive tomorrow, at three. Have you seen the drawings that I have distributed throughout the town."

Warren nodded.

"I think it was a good initiative of them to send us this drawings, we would undoubtedly have been quite scared, if we had seen them coming in these suits without warning!" the doctor said.

"That's also my point of view," Franklin laughed, drinking up his beer. "Well then, I guess it was all I wanted to bother you with for today Dr. Warren. I'll be expecting you at half past two tomorrow, in the square. If there is one day in our lives when we should be early, it's tomorrow!"

He let out a laugh, throwing a coin on the table, and starting to rise from his chair. Sam stood straighter.

"Mr. Franklin," he said slowly, "do you know for how long they will stay here?"

Franklin shrugged.

"I don't know. They seemed to be willing to stay for quite a long time, but I could not tell you for how long exactly. They will be sending some of their equipment for the next few days, and will at least stay here for a month or two I reckon."

Sam nodded slowly.

"Thank you, Mr. Franklin."

"Have a good day gentlemen."

And he walked out of the inn. Warren turned towards Sam.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't like this," Sam mumbled. "I don't like the idea of them being here."

"Why?" asked Joseph. "You don't know them."

Sam merely shrugged.

"We have enough problems now without them, that's all I meant. And I don't think that a group of scientists coming from the future will improve the situation here."

He finished his drink, his eye still fixed upon the wooden door of the inn, where Franklin had disappeared just a minute before. He didn't like this at all...

* * *

 _LHC, Switzerland_

 _June, 2017._

Michael set the Box in motion, advancing slowly towards the wormhole. His throat was so tight, he wondered how he could manage to breathe. His heart was pounding in his ear, and the thud beat was the only thing he could hear. He thought his rib cage was going to explode under the pressure of his racing heart. He was almost in the wormhole now, only a few centimetres to go.

Upon his lips, a prayer formed slowly, without him even noticing his own gesture...

He didn't dare to slow down, though now he had almost fallen into the void, he knew he would probably not have the strength to finish this madness if he did.

...Oh, if there was really a God up there, it was the moment to be by his side...

The Box slowly seemed to fall, as if it was right upon the edge of an endless precipice.

...Oh God, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to die...

And then he was falling.

...Fucking Hell, fucking Hell, fucking Hell...

He closed tightly his eyes, nausea rising inside of him. He thought he was going to throw up in his helmet.

...Please make it stop, please make it stop now...

The Box seemed to be twirling and rolling and spinning into the infinite nothingness into which he had jumped voluntarily like the idiot he was.

...Oh God, he couldn't take anymore of this, it had to stop...

And suddenly, it stopped.

...What the Hell?...

The Box was completely still now, and was standing upright, motionless. Michael focused harder, and could have sworn he had heard some noise, though, when he opened his eyes, he couldn't see a thing. His heart still pounding in his ears, he pushed the door open. He couldn't take any more of this anyway.

And very slowly, he opened the door.

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _March, 1766._

Everyone had gathered in the square. Above the crowd, the sun was shining bright, the sky still shivering as winter was finally leaving the word, and yet not abandoning it completely. Spring had brought them rain for a few days, and the streets were still wet and muddy, but now no clouds were staining with white the clear blue heavens. At the centre, Warren and Franklin were talking enthusiastically about the arrival of the scientists, whilst the Governor was politely listening, though he was clearly annoyed by the whole thing. Behind them, some rich merchants and businessmen had gathered, and among them, Sam spotted John Hancock, in his beautiful clothes, with his blond wig and his powdered cheeks. He wondered if the men and women in the future were more like himself: dirty, and cold, and wet most of the time; or like Hancock: rich, and full of mannerism, and wearing powdered wigs. He couldn't decide which thought made him feel the most miserable. Next to him, one of his closest friends suddenly appeared.

"Well, that's what I call a gathering!"

Paul Revere smiled at Sam, who shook his hand in response, smiling as well.

"So, you came after all..." Sam told him.

"Well, I don't have anyone in my business for now anyway. And I have to say I'm quite curious to see what they will look like."

"I'm feeling just the same," Sam smiled.

Suddenly, there was a rumour through the crowd, as the church was ringing three o'clock.

"Well, 'guess it's time," said Kelly.

A deafening silence fell upon the square, as the crowd was expecting the bridge to open.

And then there was a low noise, and the dark circle appeared. Franklin noted the exact time, before looking at the wormhole again.

After only a few seconds, a big white box appeared, and then the bridge was closed. Warren, Franklin and Hutchinson hurried towards the Box. As they were reaching it, the door opened, and Michael fell out of it.

Franklin and Warren helped him getting down on his knees, his breathing heavy through his dark helmet.

"Can you hear me?" Warren asked him.

Though he had seen the drawings of their suits, he had to admit he was quite scared of what he would discover if he took off the helmet...

Michael nodded slowly, still panting. He reached for a little button in the back of his neck, pushed it, and took his helmet off.

He was covered with sweat, panting, clearly exhausted, but the crowd was relieved. It really wasn't a demon of any kind. Only a man with short, black hair.

Michael looked up, his green eyes staring at the crowd right in front of him.

"How are you feeling?" Warren asked him in a kind voice.

Panic appeared slowly upon Michael's face.

"I can't see anything," he answered, his voice hoarse and shaky.

He blinked several times, but it didn't change anything.

"I'm a doctor," Warren said. "Let me take a look."

Michael turned towards the voice, letting Joseph take his face in his hands and looking at his eyes.

"I'm Michael, by the way," he said, a smile forming slowly on his lips as the world was now a white cloud of mist and not deep dark shadows anymore. "Michael Redcraft."

"I'm Dr. Joseph Warren."

Michael stopped breathing.

"Joseph Warren?"

"Yes, that's it."

Bloody Hell! He had been there for less than a minute, and he was already meeting one of the Founding Fathers... He felt like he was going to black out.

He blinked several times, freeing his face from Warren's grasp, and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was able to see the doctor's face.

"Can you see again?" Joseph asked him.

Michael nodded.

"Only a temporary after-effect I reckon."

He offered Warren his open hand.

"That's honour to meet you, Doctor."

"The honour is all mine," Joseph answered, shaking his hand.

"Can you stand?" Franklin asked him.

Michael turned towards him, and recognised him in an instant. After all, his face was on the banknotes...

"Dr. Benjamin Franklin?" he asked his voice shaking, his eyes wide.

Franklin merely nodded, offering him his hand. Michael shook slowly his hand, amazed. Bloody Hell...two of the Founding Fathers...

"I think I'm gonna sit for a bit longer," he managed to mumble.

"Of course."

"Do you have vertigo? Is your head spinning?" Warren asked him.

Michael let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm fine, just a bit... shocked I guess."

But the wormhole opened once more, and Michael had to stand up. He shook hand with the Governor, before turning towards the Box again. He picked up a remote control unit, and started to guide the Box back towards the hole. Next to him, Warren, and especially Franklin, were amazed.

"What is it?" the elder man couldn't help but ask.

"A remote controller," Michael answered. "'Used to guide this thing, so that we won't have to push it back inside the bridge."

"Amazing..."

Michael couldn't refrain a smile.

As they were waiting for the next scientist to arrive, Michael finally took a moment to look around him. The house, the muddy ground, the clothing... everything was like he had imagined, unless more vivid, real...He caught Sam's gaze.

Sam stared back at him. This man in a strange suit looked exhausted, disorientated, but he didn't seem cruel, nor anything of that kind. Quite the contrary, his face was enjoyable, and his green eyes seemed to be smiling constantly. Sam couldn't help but think that under other circumstances, he would have probably liked him, and they could even have been friends. But he couldn't trust these people. He didn't know anything about them after all. And Sam had seen too much cruelty and injustice in his life to grant his trust easily.

The Box appeared again. Michael opened quickly the door, whilst the bridge was being closed, and caught his colleague in his arms, as the form was falling to the ground. Sam examined the newcomer, who was smaller than Michael apparently. Much smaller, and lighter, according to the way Warren was helping him to lay down on his back. Michael took off his helmet. Sam's eyes grew wide, along with everyone around the square, and a whisper shook the crowd. It was a woman... Her graceful face let no doubt possible. She was panting, clearly exhausted as well. Sam and Revere exchanged a glance. A woman...?

"Do you hear me?" Michael asked her.

Sarah cleared her dry throat.

"Yeah, I hear you. I can't see anything though."

"It seems to be normal," Warren reassured her. "It happened to your colleague as well, but his sight came back fully."

She nodded slowly, her head spinning hard. She lifted her open hand.

"Sarah Hugo, nice to meet you."

Warren smiled, and shook her hand.

"Doctor Joseph Warren."

She propped up an eyebrow, but smiled nonetheless. She blinked several times, and her sight came back. She grinned at Warren, before turning her attention towards the Governor, and finally towards Franklin.

"It's an honour sir," she said, her voice shaking.

She was shaking hands with Benjamin Franklin... That was so unbelievable...

"All the honour is mine," he answered.

"Can you stand?" Michael asked her.

She nodded, and with the help of her friend, she managed to get back on her feet.

"If I may ask," she said, turning towards Franklin again, "were we late?"

"Less than a minute," he answered. "Forty-two seconds to be precise."

Michael sighed.

"Oh, and I'm going to hear about this one for a while..."

Sarah patted his shoulder, laughing.

"Well, I won. You owe me a bottle of whiskey!"

Warren and Franklin exchanged an amused look; these scientists seemed quite peculiar, but pleasant nonetheless.

Soon it was Yuri's turn to cross the bridge, and he was terrible at hiding his shaky voice when he shook Ben Franklin's hand. But who could blame him?

Then it was James's turn to arrive.

"We're not dead..." he blurted out, once he could see the smiling faces of his two best friends again.

They merely laughed at him.

"Not yet James!" Sarah laughed.

Her laugh, so pure and earnest, was enough to make everyone in the square smile.

"We have set you in a house nearby," Franklin told them as Pablo was arriving. "We hope it will be to your liking. I am afraid it's not very richly decorated, but as you asked for space, and to remain close to the spot where the bridge was opening, we thought it seemed quite appropriate."

"I'm sure it will be perfect Dr. Franklin," Sarah reassured him with a smile. "It's already a lot that you can accept to help us, we would not like to abuse of your generous hospitality."

Franklin's mouth curved slowly into a smile.

"I cannot help but notice your accent," he told her. "Are you French?"

Sarah laughed happily, making everyone around her smile again.

"Yes indeed, I'm French. I guess I can't really hide it!"

"I have myself good relations with the French," Franklin told her.

She nodded, an amused smile on her lips.

"That's not very surprising Mr. Franklin, your company seems to be most enjoyable indeed!"

They both laughed. Franklin really did like this scientist...

Yoko had finally joined them, and the bridge would not be opened again before the next day, to send them the rest of their equipment.

The Governor guided them towards their house, and the crowd slowly dissipated.

"Well, they don't seem to be much of a threat," John Adams said, whilst Warren was joining them.

"They seem to be quite nice actually," the doctor answered, smiling.

"Well, we'll see about that," replied darkly Sam.

"Why do you always see evil in everything?" Warren asked him, sighing.

"Because there is always some evil to be seen in everything," Sam replied, his eyes fixed upon the walking scientists, who were closely followed by soldiers carrying their equipment, whilst Michael was guiding the Box to follow them as well. "I'm just realistic enough to see it."

"What evil could they do?" John asked him.

Sam stared into his eyes, his intense gaze piercing right through him.

"Oh, many things I'm sure..."

* * *

The six scientists were guided to the house that had been appointed to them. Indeed, it was not particularly welcoming, but it was large enough to allow them to settle down with all their equipment, and so far they considered themselves quite lucky indeed. Ben Franklin had settled in the house right next to theirs, and thus would be able to come whenever they would need his help. And he intended to take part of their project as much as possible. He helped them unpacking their things, asking a thousand questions, and far too often for him the scientists answers were a bit too vague.

"We can't explain you everything, Mr. Franklin," Sarah told him kindly as she was noticing his frustration. "Much have not yet been learned, and it's better if things are discovered in their own times and places."

He slowly nodded.

"I understand. But I will keep asking anyway, just in case you might be in a better mood another day."

Eventually, they were left alone to settle down properly. No official dinner had yet been settled, but they all guessed that the reprieve would not last forever.

When everything was ready for the next day, Sarah, James and Michael allowed themselves a moment of peace.

"So..." James said slowly, lying down on the bed. "Michael lost his bet?"

"Thank you to remind me that, your Majesty," Michael snapped, but his lips were curved into a smile.

James sighed.

"You're never tired of joking with the fact that I'm an Englishman, are you?"

"Never I'm afraid."

"That's a shame, I guess I will have to remind you that I can beat you easily at baseball if I want you to shut it then."

"Now, you're always using mean arguments."

They chuckled, and turned towards Sarah, who was remaining strangely silent. She was sitting by the window, looking at the square bathed in the last lights of the dying day. Outside, children seemed to be playing with an empty bottle of wine. A group of soldiers crossed the square, and the children ran away, hiding. She had imagined this world that way, but seeing it as a reality and not just a picture of the mind was something else entirely. The dirty streets, the soldiers walking everywhere, the poor cloths of the children, the sound of the bells ringing... It was so much harder to live these days than her own. A toothache and she would probably die. Or well, they had brought some penicillin with them, just in case, along with some other drugs from their time, so she wouldn't die because of a toothache. But this child down there might...

"Are you okay?" James asked her shyly.

Sarah turned quickly around.

"Of course I am, why?"

"Well, you look sad," her friend answered.

She looked at the children again, who were playing with the bottle again, now that the soldiers had walked away.

"We shouldn't be here," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, speaking more to herself than to her friends. "We can't help them, just watch. What use are we?"

Michael stood up and walked towards her.

"We're not supposed to be useful. You said it yourself, we must remain out of their way."

"We've already changed things. Benjamin Franklin was not supposed to travel to Boston in 1766..."

Michael sighed.

"As long as we don't choose a side, we'll be fine, right?"

She nodded slowly.

"I hope it will be that simple..."

* * *

Sarah was looking for a way to refuse this in a very polite way. The Governor had organized a meeting with a local tailor, to make the scientists proper clothes. John Hancock had volunteered to help financially, and had recommended his own tailor for the occasion. Indeed, the scientists had brought some clothes typical from this century with them, and had hurried to wear them to make the people of Boston feel more at ease whilst talking with them, but they had only one set of clothing each, and needed undoubtedly more clothes. But when the tailor started to propose to them some beautiful, but considerably expensive and delicate clothes, they had all turned towards Sarah to find a way to say no in the most polite way.

"This is absolutely beautiful," she said, smiling.

Hancock and the Governor exchanged a smirk.

"...But..."

Their smiles disappeared.

"...We will have to do some experiments outside, you know?" Sarah said slowly. "We would love to be able to wear such wonderful piece of clothing, but I'm afraid it will be a bit too much... fragile, for us to work with."

"Of course," Hancock said slowly, quite taken aback though.

"Maybe you have something a bit... simpler?"

"I'm sure we do," Hancock smiled, using his most seductive tone.

If Hancock had not been one of the Founding Fathers, Michael would have had exploded in laughter a long time ago before the gentleman's mannerism.

Eventually, more sober clothes were proposed, and the scientists were finally fully clothed in the eighteenth century fashion. Or well, most of them...

"Hmm... Do you think it would be possible to wear trousers for me as well?" Sarah asked shyly when the tailor proposed her dresses.

She hated dresses. It was uncomfortable, and was always caught everywhere, and to do some measurements when you had to bend down every five seconds it was torture. She hated dresses...

Hancock and the Governor laughed merrily, though Franklin distinguished that she was actually being serious.

"If I may say so, my Lady, you people of the future have a wonderful humour," Hancock answered, still laughing. "A wonderful humour indeed!"

Sarah forced a smile, but was in reality panicking, looking at the large dresses. How the Hell was she supposed to work in this? But she didn't want to be rude. It was already amazingly kind of them to offer her and her colleagues clothes, she couldn't refuse. At least, she managed to trade some real boots, resistant and warm. When the tailor finally left the house near the square where the scientists had been settled, and the Governor and Hancock took their leave as well, Franklin turned towards Sarah with an amused smile.

"Your remark concerning trousers was not humour, was it?" he asked her bluntly.

She sighed.

"Well, I don't wear dresses usually," she answered. "In the future, it's completely normal for women to wear trousers."

"I'm afraid it is anything but normal here."

Franklin leaned further towards her.

"But it might not be impossible."

He winked at her.

"No good tailor will make trousers for you, only dresses. But if you venture downtown, and find the right shop... It won't be beautiful trousers, but you should undoubtedly find someone whom, for a few golden coins, will sell you as many trousers as you want."

"You wouldn't have the name of any of these marvellous shops, would you?" she asked him.

Franklin laughed.

"I'll take you on Monday myself, if you want me to."

"Would it bother you?"

"Of course not. How could it bother me to take a walk in such pleasant company."

Sarah let out a merry laugh. They had been here for two days, and already, Franklin and her had become quite friends. And becoming friendly with Benjamin Franklin was quite something, she reckoned.

* * *

There was a shiver through the whole town. There had been since the beginning of that morning. There were British soldiers everywhere, always in groups, walking through the streets. Clearly, they had waited to settle down, and for the six scientists to get comfortable as well. They would finish to receive their equipment in the coming days, and start their experiments and measurements in a week or so. They didn't need any help of the army, and had been quite reluctant at the very idea of accepting any help coming from the soldiers in fact. And if they didn't need their help, then the soldiers could start to take care of Boston.

All morning through, they entered into houses, and shops, and boarded ships, and searched everywhere, looking for goods and unpaid taxes. Sam was looking at them swirling in and out of the shops, walking in these streets as if they were their own. But they were not theirs...

Sam drank up one more gulp of alcohol from his flask, turning at the corner of the street, and he suddenly looked up, cries piercing the air.

He recognised the shop in an instant, it was the Seider's grocery. Soldiers were taking away the father, whilst his son and his wife were struggling to free themselves from the soldiers' grasps and get to him.

" _No Father!_ " the boy, Christopher, cried through the street.

" _No please, don't take him! John! Please...!_ " his mother was crying.

Sam knew them. They were not close but he knew these people, and they were good people. They were kind, and though their shop had had hard times these past few weeks, they were struggling to keep their head above the water. And now, the soldiers were taking him away. And Sam knew perfectly why, though he had not seen the warrant, he could have bet his life on it: unpaid taxes. He threw his flask away, rage burning throughout his body.

" _Get your hands off!_ " he bellowed angrily, hurrying towards them, his fists clenched, his teeth gritting.

The officer turned towards him.

" _Or what?_ " he replied, clearly not impressed.

Sam advanced towards him until their faces were only a few inches apart, and stared at him, threat and challenge burning in his dark eyes. Suddenly, he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turned around...

The soldier hit him hard in the stomach with the butt of his musket, and Sam fell to the ground, his arms wrapped around his torso, struggling to catch his breath. All the air had suddenly left his lungs, and he was choking instead of breathing.

The soldier hit him again with his firearm, and Sam let out a breathy moan, as he was curling up on the muddy ground.

Around the corner, the British officer distinguished the shape of Ben Franklin, and one of the scientists.

" _Enough, that's enough,_ " the officer ordered his men.

He turned a disdainful look towards Sam, who was coughing desperately on the ground, still struggling to breathe.

" _Bloody drunk..._ " he said. " _Leave him there._ "

They walked away, taking Mr. Seider with them, leaving Sam gasping for air in the dust.

Sarah hurried towards Sam, getting down on her knees next to him, closely followed by Ben Franklin.

"Are you okay?"she asked him, touching softly his arm.

He looked up at her, and recognized immediately the scientist. Her long black curls were falling loosely upon her shoulders, her blue eyes so deep and intense that for a second he couldn't look away. He finally noticed that she was wearing a white shirt and a pair of trousers, and not a dress.

" _I'm alright,_ " he answered, shrugging her away when she wanted to help him to stand.

Sam slowly stood up, and staggered backwards until he could lean against the windowpane of the house right behind them.

"Are you sure?" she insisted. "Do you want us to call for Dr. Warren?"

Sam shook his head.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

He sniffed, before bending slowly, still holding his stomach, and picked up his flask. He looked up, and caught Christopher's desperate gaze.

" _Why is this happening?_ " the child asked, his voice shaking, both with anger and pain.

Sam merely stared at him, sadness drowning his dark glance, his throat tightening suddenly. What could he answer to this boy? It was unfair, there was no reason for this to happen, except for the madness of a King.

The church rang, cutting the atmosphere with its high-pitched sound that seemed to mark this moment in a severe way.

" _Inside Christopher,_ " his mother told him, dragging him back inside the shop, tears drowning her cheeks.

Footsteps could be heard further in the street, and they witnessed another man being taken away by a group of soldiers. Sarah clenched her jaws.

"What? You were not expecting to see this? More like green grass and sun everywhere?" Samuel asked the scientist when he saw her reaction.

She looked at him, a sad glint in her eyes, and when she spoke again, her tone was soft.

"I knew what I would find here, Mr. Adams. I come from the future after all. But it doesn't mean that witnessing this doesn't move me at all."

She turned towards Franklin again, who was clenching his fists.

"We should go Mr. Franklin, don't you think?"

He nodded slowly, offering her his arm, and they walked away. Before turning at the corner of the street, Sarah looked at Sam one last time over her shoulder. He was drinking again.

* * *

" _Everyday my ship is impounded I am losing thousands of shillings..._ "

" _Mr. Hancock..._ "

" _You are to turn over the Liberty, Governor, and pay me what I am owed!_ "

Hancock stared at Hutchinson for a while, panic shaking his voice. Next to them, the fire in the hearth was burning bright, only source of light in the room, shedding a dim and bleeding light upon the two men facing each other, each sitting on a couch. Hancock was sitting very straight, his body tensed, and his eyes wider than usual in expectation and fear. The Governor however, was sprawled on the sofa, looking with an amused look at Hancock's desperation, enjoying the sight of this man drowning, on the verge of losing everything he owned. Indeed, with the new law enforcement, Hutchinson had put an end at their arrangement, and had seized during this very afternoon Hancock's ship, along with the goods that it had been carrying. If Hancock wanted to keep sending his merchandises along the country, or receive some, he would have to learn to pay his Customs duties like everybody in the Colony. And now that he had a little army at his command, Hutchinson was far from fearing this ridiculous Colonist.

" _Mr. Hancock,_ " the Governor told him slowly, the ghost of a smirk badly hidden upon his lips, " _you seem to be confused as the nature of our relationship._ "

" _I am not confused, Governor,_ " Hancock replied, in a tone that, used by him, was undoubtedly exasperated, " _I_ pay _you. And in return, you keep the Customs officials off my back, and my ships. That is the arrangement you had with my uncle, that is the arrangement you have with me._ "

" _Mr. Adams and his band of thugs seem to have put an end to this relationship,_ " the Governor snapped, his face suddenly colder.

Hancock blinked, his hands resting upon his knees, silence filling up the room, and for a moment everything remained perfectly still, as if time itself had stopped before the injustice it was witnessing in the Governor's house. Hancock was feeling himself drowning, slowly, but the ropes he was trying to hold onto were becoming thinner and thinner every second, and soon he would simply fall. He was losing everything...

" _We have a deal,_ " Hancock told Hutchinson, his voice fragile as the one of a betrayed child, who suddenly had to face the cruelty of life.

" _A deal... What is about a deal?_ " Hutchinson replied, brushing away Hancock's remark with a quick gesture of the hand. " _There is no deal. Who do you think you are to me? To the Crown? You're nothing but a glorified smuggler._ "

The two gentlemen stared at each other for a while, Hancock slowly coping with the Governor's sudden cruelty. Behind Hutchinson's sofa, standing, drinking up his tea, the Governor's Aide chuckled. Hancock threw him an angry look, before focusing upon Hutchinson again.

" _I'm not a smuggler,_ " he defended himself, though his voice was higher than usual.

" _Then what are you? A businessman? Then pay your taxes. Everyone else does, why not you?_ "

Hancock let out an angry sigh, and when he spoke again, his voice was urgent, losing the usual control he was always applying on his tone and that was always making him speak very slowly and politely. Now, his tone was quick and breathy, barely louder than a whisper.

" _Look, I get what you are doing. I understand with the delinquency and the riots, I get it. But if I am made to pay full duties on my cargo there is no way for me to make any money! Do you understand?_ "

All the while, he had leaned closer and closer to the Governor, and now he was bending over the wooden table, slightly out of breath, staring into Hutchinson's eyes. But the Governor was only pleased with the situation.

" _Well..._ " he replied, his expression cold, and devoid of any trace of compassion whatsoever. " _That would seem to be the case._ "

Hancock's Adam's apple pulsed, and he got up and walked out of the Governor's mansion without another word.

When he arrived to his estate, the painter he had hired to draw a portrait of him had finally finished his work, and was waiting for Hancock to finish his delivery. He hung Hancock's portrait above the desk, in the merchant's office, instead of the painting of his uncle. Hancock looked down at the painting of his dead uncle for a while. The man had put him at the head of his empire, but now he was gone. He was dead, and buried, though his memory was still haunting these walls, and every figure he was calculating, and every profit he was making, and every good he was losing... His uncle was buried, maybe, but it seemed to Hancock that he was still looking at him, from wherever he might be now, and the pressure of his inheritance was sometimes unbearable. But he couldn't keep thinking that way. He wasn't his uncle, and times had changed. Hutchinson had broken his word, and now was trying to use his fall to make his own profit, but that would not happen. How had Hutchinson called him? A smuggler? Well, if he needed to be one to survive in this ocean of sharks, then he would be a smuggler, and a very rich one indeed.


	3. Reception

**Here comes a new chapter, I hope you like it.**

 **Thank you GreTheresa for you reviews, you're the best!**

 **One scene is taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Please, tell me all what you think about it. Don't forget to review ;)**

* * *

 **Reception.**

Despite the Governor's strike upon his cargo, John Hancock was decided to make a good impression on the scientists. And what better way than by organizing a party?

Hancock had no intention to wait, and as the Governor seemed to be throwing away their deal, the gentleman didn't consider as a necessity to inform Hutchinson about the party. And so, only a couple of days after the Liberty had been seized, he walked across the square towards the house of the scientists. Sarah let him in, smiling happily at him.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Hancock?"

He couldn't help but notice that the woman was wearing trousers, and not one of the dresses he had bought.

"Well, I first wanted to see if _I_ could do anything for you, and your colleagues," Hancock answered in his usual over-polite tone.

Sarah's smile only widened.

"As you can see we're slowly settling down. It is very generous of you to offer us your help, but we have already all that we could need, thank you."

"Good, very good..."

He sat down on the sofa, and Michael offered him some tea. Sarah remained talking with him whilst her colleagues were working in the adjacent room. Ben Franklin, however, soon join them.

"I was thinking about throwing a little party," Hancock said slowly, sipping his tea. "It is a shame that we haven't yet welcomed you all the proper way. I thought maybe we could organize a little reception, with a few of my personal friends who are more than enthusiastic at the perspective of meeting you. We could then have all dinner at my home, what do you think?"

Sarah kept her smile, though her hands were tightening their grip around her tea cup.

"It would be lovely indeed, Mr. Hancock. We would all be more than glad to attend."

Hancock grinned.

"Very well, then. Would Friday be possible for you?"

"Friday sounds perfect."

"I will be expecting you at six then."

"We'll be there. Thank you again, Mr. Hancock."

"Thank you."

Hancock turned towards Franklin, who had remained silent until now.

"Of course, Dr. Franklin, the invitation stands for you as well."

Franklin smiled.

"You can count on my presence at your reception then."

"Perfect! I wish you all a very good day then."

Hancock stood up, and Franklin walked him to the door, but instead of getting back inside, the elder man accompanied him into the street.

"If you don't mind, there is one matter that I would like to talk with you about," Franklin told him.

"Of course, Mr. Franklin. Speak, please," the businessman answered.

They walked through the square, passing before Hancock's carriage.

"There has been quite an... unrest through the town these past few months," Franklin told him slowly.

"Yes, quite an unrest indeed," agreed Hancock.

"And I'm afraid the coming of these six scientists have not improved the situation. I have noticed a concern of the people of Boston about who these scientists are exactly, and what they have come here to do."

"A quite understandable concern."

"Indeed, and I think we should try to ease their minds about this."

"But how?"

Franklin stopped walking, and Hancock imitated him, his brow furrowed.

"I know it might be something quite delicate to ask, but..." Franklin said slowly. "I thought that perhaps we could invite some of their most influential figures to your party."

Hancock couldn't refrain a wince. This was absolutely not what he had had in mind...

"I know I am asking a lot from you," Franklin hurried to add. "But think of this as an opportunity. We could both work on the improvement of some growing tensions between the people of Boston and the Crown, but also reassure the city concerning the scientists. The effects of such meeting could be excellent for everyone!"

Hancock seemed to be still hesitating.

"Of course, as it is my idea, if you wish me to help you in the organization, or to financially participate..."

"Dr. Franklin, don't be ridiculous, you are my guest."

He leaned a bit closer to Franklin, and though he was trying to hide it, a look of concern had appeared on his face.

"And, how... how many people would you like me to invite?"

"Oh, not much, don't worry," Franklin reassured him. "I was thinking about Dr. Warren, you might know him. As a physician I expect he has quite an important influence in Boston, and his patients will probably listen to his point of view."

Hancock nodded.

"Yes, I know Dr. Warren. Not very well though, I'm afraid. But I have already found myself in need of his medical skills."

"I thought about John Adams as well. He is a lawyer, and he might be able to plead our cause amongst his colleagues."

Hancock nodded again, so far agreeing with Franklin.

"John Adams is also the cousin of Mr. Samuel Adams, have you heard of him?" Franklin asked the merchant.

Hancock nodded slowly, choosing carefully his words, and thus speaking even in a slower tone than usual.

"I have heard of him, yes."

"I think he was involved in the destruction of the Governor's house, last year."

"I am afraid I do not know any detail of that kind, Mr. Franklin. Though I heard about rumors of that kind, yes."

"I've heard he has an important authority amongst the Boston community. But he doesn't seem to be particularly pleased at the idea of the scientists being here. I think we should call for him as well. I've also heard of one of his friends, Paul Revere. We should invite both of them."

Hancock was about to protest, Sam Adams and Paul Revere not being at all the kind of people he wanted to invite, but an idea suddenly popped up into his mind. Maybe he could need Mr. Adams, for personal purposes...

"So be it then, I should send them some invitation as soon as I get home."

"Will the Governor be here too?"

Hancock clenched his jaws, but quickly smiled again.

"Of course, we could not throw a reception with the scientists without him, could we?"

"No, we couldn't. And it will be a good thing to have him meeting the people who can represent the anger that is shaking the colony."

Hancock and Franklin walked back towards the merchant's carriage, and Hancock turned one last time toward the elder man before going inside.

"I will see you on Friday then, Dr. Franklin."

He nodded.

"Have a good day, Mr. Hancock, and thank you again for accepting to help."

"It is no trouble, Mr. Franklin, no trouble at all."

Indeed, he could probably turn this situation into an interesting advantage...

* * *

"Sam, please, you have to listen..."

"I'm not going John."

The two cousins stared at each other in the eyes. Sam took a gulp of his beer, and John heaved a sigh, before turning towards Warren for support.

"Sam, John is right," Warren told his friend.

"I'm not going to John Hancock's party! To see him and his friends show off, and drink champagne when out here men are being taken away from their homes everyday for nothing..."

"The Governor will be here too, you could talk to him," tried to argue John.

"We both know he doesn't care. No, in fact, he even agrees with it! Why would he listen to us? He is the one commanding the soldiers, not the other way around!"

"Maybe you could try to discuss with him of this matter, and try to make him see reason," Warren told him. "But if you just stay here, and do nothing, there's no chance all this madness will stop."

Sam shook his head.

"It's useless, we'll merely be laughed at, or in the best case ignored. I'm not letting them make a fool of me."

"It's not the only thing you should think about though," Revere told him. "The scientists are coming as well."

"You could learn a lot if you went there," Kelly nodded. "You're always saying you don't trust them. Well, that's the moment to figure it all out."

Sam heaved a sigh. Now, he couldn't really find a good argument...

"Alright, I'll go then."

His friends exchanged a smirk. Sam drank up the rest of his beer.

"But I hope for his own sake that Hancock is going to stay out of my way..."

* * *

The second Sam Adams passed these large doors he knew it was an awful idea. He should have never listened to his friends. The very sight of all these people, richly dressed, with these smiles on their faces that were like promises of betrayal, and hands covered with rings that could have bought enough food for four entire families for weeks... He wanted to break everything around him, and shout, shout until his lungs were empty and his throat burning. He wasn't mad at them because they had money, he was mad because they were showing it, spending their time exposing all their wealth in front of people who had nothing, and that was cruel. He didn't care about their money, they had been lucky and had made great fortunes, well, good for them. But he knew perfectly that they were all too selfish to think of anything else but the weight of their pockets. They were loyal to none but themselves, and if a better offer was proposed to them, they would gladly stab their best friend in the back to make sure to earn the profits in the end. When he caught their glances, he could only read despise, but he was sure they could see the same feeling in his own eyes.

"We shouldn't have come here," he whispered to Revere.

Paul nodded slowly.

"Well, I got to say that you might be right this time."

Hancock suddenly appeared by their side, and shook their hands, welcoming them warmly. Maybe a bit too warmly...

"I am so glad you could all attend tonight," he said in his slow tone. "Please, come inside, and enjoy yourselves, gentlemen."

Once further inside the room, the four men quickly understood that everyone around them was carefully avoiding them. Except for Benjamin Franklin.

"I'm glad you came," he told them. "I thought it might be a good idea that you could meet and ask any sort of questions you may have to the six scientists we've welcomed lately."

"It is a very good idea indeed, and we thank you for thinking of us," John Adams answered him in a smile.

"Well, come with me, let's try to find them in all this silk."

They walked through the crowd, smiling here and there, nodding at some people, before finally spotting the scientists. Yuri, Pablo and Yoko were talking with Governor Hutchinson and his aide, but James and Michael were talking alone a few feet away. They headed towards the two friends.

"Well, where is Sarah?" asked Franklin.

Michael shrugged.

"No idea, she was taken care of by a group of ladies in the afternoon, and we haven't seen her since."

"Well, it doesn't matter, I'm sure they're merely getting ready," Franklin told them. "I would like to introduce you to a few people who will have questions concerning your scientific mission here."

He turned towards Warren first.

"Well, I'm sure you remember Doctor Warren."

"Of course, how are you Doctor?" answered James, as he and Michael were both shaking his hand.

"I'm very well, thank you."

Franklin turned to John Adams.

"This is John Adams, he's a lawyer in our town."

James grabbed his hand first, giving a bit of time for Michael to realize that the man in front of him was one day going to become the second president of the United States...

"This is Paul Revere."

Michael struggled not to stutter, and grew paler as they were shaking hands.

"And Samuel Adams."

By now Michael was ready to faint.

Right at this moment, Sarah appeared down the hall, along with several ladies. They were all richly dressed, and their hair carefully attached in high bun. Sarah excused herself and joined the group of gentlemen.

Michael whistled discreetly.

"Am I hallucinating, or are you really wearing a dress?" he teased her.

"You look very beautiful," Franklin complemented her.

Indeed, in her blue dress that matched the colour of her eyes, and her dark lock of hair that came falling upon her shoulder, brushing her cheek... she was beautiful.

Sam took a gulp of alcohol.

Franklin turned towards the four gentlemen to introduce her, but finally noticed that she was looking very pale.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

She had still not said anything, and she suddenly grabbed Michael's arm, needing support or she would fall to the ground. Her head was dangerously spinning...

"I can't breathe..." she gasped.

Michael frowned hard.

"My dress is too tight, I can't breathe."

Her two friends chuckled.

"That's not funny!"

They both instantly stopped laughing at the sight of her expression.

"Turn around," ordered Michael.

They took a step back, and he discreetly loosened her corset. She took a huge gulp of air.

"Thank you."

"Are you alright? Do you want to sit down?" asked Warren, clearly concerned.

But she shook her head, smiling.

"Now that I'm able to breathe normally again, I'll be alright. Now, you can understand why I prefer to work in trousers and not dresses," she added to Franklin.

The elder man laughed happily.

"I think I can imagine now, yes."

"Why didn't you just tell them it was too tight?" James asked her.

"I told them. Twice, but apparently it is very fashionable not to breathe," she replied in an amused smile.

Still laughing, Franklin finally introduced her to the three gentlemen she hadn't met before, and she did an impressive job at hiding how impressed she was to meet them.

"For how long are you planning on staying here?" Revere asked them casually, drinking up some wine.

"We don't know, to be honest," Michael answered. "We are here to study the bridge, and see if there had been any impact on your side. We can't tell you how long it will take us to finish our studies. But we won't go back next week, that's for sure."

"Well, I guess you could say that your presence here has undoubtedly changed many things on our _side_. On a social point of view, I mean," Sam replied slowly, his voice quite cold. "Or it could, in a coming future."

"We won't take part in anything that is going on in your period of time," Sarah answered. "We're here to study a scientific phenomenon, not to do politics. We don't want to disturb the timeline, and change anything that has happened in our version of History."

"But the very fact that you came here, didn't it change History already?" asked John Adams.

The three scientists exchanged a glance.

"Actually, Mr. Adams," answered James slowly, "it is a debate we are facing ourselves, in the very team."

"What do you mean?" asked Paul, his brow furrowed.

"We have no idea of the impact of our actions upon the timeline," Sarah answered. "We don't know in which proportions we are changing things by working here. And some of us are more willing to be cautious with timeline, than efficient in our studies. But others would rather do the contrary."

"And what do _you_ think?" Sam asked her.

She looked at him in the eyes.

"We all three are definitely in favour of being cautious," she answered, staring into his intense dark eyes.

"And your colleagues?"

"They may have a tendency to be a bit too much focused on the scientific part of our presence here."

Hancock suddenly appeared by their side.

"We are going to have super in the living room," he told them. "I hope you're enjoying your evening so far."

"We are, thank you again Mr. Hancock, for inviting us," Sarah replied.

Hancock swirled around, smirking, and advanced towards others of his guests.

"You definitely have a gift for diplomatic conversations," James told her, a small smile on his lips.

She merely rolled her eyes, and they all advanced towards the long table where they would have dinner.

Everything in the room, from the paintings upon the walls to the golden chandeliers had clearly been chosen with great care. The luxury and the display of wealth that the decoration demonstrated was impressive. Sam was felling more uncomfortable than ever.

After a short speech from Hancock, they all started to eat. The meal was delicate, and tasty. But Sam was too much lost in his own thoughts to care about food. Ideas and worries and scenarios were twirling in his mind in a whirlwind he couldn't control, and all his thoughts were too dark to make him feel hungry. He barely touched anything of all the evening, remaining silent, but listening at some conversations around him from time to time, when he wasn't too much drowned in his mind to notice anything coming from the real world. His cousin nudged him discreetly when Warren talked to him, but he wasn't listening, and he tried to focus on the evening once more. Sarah, Michael and James were talking casually with Benjamin Franklin and Joseph Warren, right next to him.

"Where do you come from?" Warren asked them.

"Well, I'm from London," James answered. "Sarah's French, as you can tell by the accent."

She winced jokingly, making the rest of them chuckle, before smiling herself.

"And I'm from Boston actually," Michael answered.

"Really?" asked Warren. "Well, and how is our town in your time?"

"Bigger," Michael answered.

"And, are things the same in your time?" Sam asked him in a slow voice. "Is there still too much taxes, too little work...?"

Michael swallowed loudly.

"Well, things aren't perfect, for sure. We have other problems, going with our own time."

"But will things get better for us?" asked Revere.

"I'm afraid you'll have to learn that by yourself," Sarah answered.

"It's better if you don't know the future. Or at least, not your future," added Michael.

"So, we'll still be like this in two hundred years?" asked Sam anyway. "Struggling for scraps in the streets?"

"Many things can happen in two hundred years, Mr. Adams," Michael eluded the question.

Sam shook slowly his head. They didn't want to answer the questions that mattered, he was merely losing his time here. He shouldn't have listened to his friends, he shouldn't have come...

An elder woman, probably in her late sixties, suddenly turned towards Sarah.

"I was wondering, Mrs. Hugo, how did your husband react when you announced him your departure? The poor soul must be lost without you! My husband would have never let me go away from home, for sure."

"Hmm... I'm not married, actually," the scientist answered. "So, I didn't have any problem of that nature."

"Oh really? What a shame!" the woman told her. "Or maybe you are already a widow? In that case I'm terribly sorry..."

"No, no, no," Sarah reassured her, amused despite herself. "I've never been married."

"Really?" the woman's grand-daughter asked her, surprised. "Well, how this could have happened? You are undoubtedly beautiful, why did you never marry?"

Sarah shrugged, feeling quite embarrassed by now.

"I guess I never found the right man."

"My Elisabeth is getting married next month," the old woman told her proudly, pointing at her grand-daughter. "To an English gentleman."

Sarah looked up at the so-called Elisabeth, who smiled proudly at her. She was barely twenty.

"Well, congratulations, that's wonderful!" Sarah answered.

"How did you two meet?" Michael asked her.

"My grand-mother has organized everything, she knows his parents quite well," the girl answered. "They are Duke and Duchess. I have met him three months ago, and he is really extraordinary."

Michael frowned hard.

"You've met him only three months ago? It must have been love at first sight!"

Sarah kicked him under the table, and he looked questioningly at her, before realizing his mistake, and wincing. It was an arranged marriage, of course...

"I mean..."

The elder woman frowned hard.

"Love can come slowly after the wedding," she protested.

"Of course," Sarah replied, smiling.

Michael focused on his cake, blushing slightly.

"So, why did you never marry?" Elisabeth asked Sarah again.

The scientist hesitated for a second, before answering slowly.

"Well... I'd like to marry for love. And I haven't found real love yet. So, I'm just being patient."

"Oh, I see."

"You should perhaps hurry up a bit though," the elder woman told her. "There are many pleasures brought by matrimony, and as a young woman, you should undoubtedly enjoy them. Maybe I could organize one or two afternoons with some of the most delightful men of our city if you wish."

Sarah and her two friends exchanged a look, before bursting into laughter. Sarah finally turned again towards the elder woman.

"Well, I thank you for your concern, but I'm just fine," Sarah answered.

"It is such a waste! A beautiful woman like you...," the elder woman didn't give up. "And trust me..."

She leaned further towards Sarah, speaking in lower voice.

"...You are missing some advantages brought by matrimony that are worth the rest of it."

The three scientists giggled again, whilst the gentlemen next to them were filling quite uncomfortable.

"Actually... In our century, well... things are quite different on some aspects," Sarah said slowly, blushing by now. "Marriage doesn't have the some importance and signification than it has here. So, trust me, I haven't missed anything."

She looked intensely at the elder woman, who sat suddenly straighter.

"But I thank you for your concern," Sarah added.

The woman merely mumbled an inaudible answer, and turned towards the Governor instead.

Well, at least the conversation was finally over...

"What about you, are you married?" Warren asked Michael and James.

James shook his head.

"We reckoned it was better to send people without families, not married... as we were taking great risks by coming here. It was easier."

"How were you chosen to go, by the way?" John Adams asked them.

"We volunteered," Michael answered. "And then, well, Yuri chose among the volunteers, to bring the most complete team possible in skills and knowledge I guess."

"Why did you volunteer?" Sam asked him, his eyes narrowed. "Why would you want to risk your lives to come here?"

The three scientists exchanged a glance.

"Honestly?" Michael asked him.

Sam nodded.

"We two just followed her," James answered, nodding towards Sarah.

"You volunteered because she did?" asked John, surprised.

Michael nodded in a sigh.

"We're friends since University, no way we were leaving her all the glory of time-travel."

He gave them a sad smile, turning his glass of wine between his fingers.

"We three met when we were eighteen, ten years ago. We've always been together since. We couldn't just let her risk her life alone, could we?"

She smiled tenderly at her two friends, before Sam would turn towards her.

"And why did _you_ volunteer?"

She stared at his dark eyes, so intense, and deep, losing her faculty of speech for a second in front of these two dark orbs that seemed to pierce through her to her soul.

"I don't trust Yuri," she answered honestly.

Sam frowned, along with his friends around him.

"Yuri sees first the scientific profit, not the social risk we are taking by coming here. We have no idea of what could be the consequences of any of our actions here, we can't take the risk to change things. When the project was accepted by the government, and Yuri was appointed to lead the team that would go back through time, I didn't think it was a good idea to just let him go and act on his own accord, without anyone who was against the whole thing in the first place."

"You were against the idea of coming here?" Franklin asked her, propping up an eyebrow.

"It's too risky, the whole thing is a bad idea," she answered, looking down at her plate.

There was a heavy silence for a while over their part of the table.

Franklin suddenly turned towards Hancock, and whispered something in his ear. The merchant nodded, and started to talk to the Governor. Soon, John was nudging Sam to pay attention at the conversation again.

"I am afraid the increase of taxations and the severe measures that have been taken these past few months are only a logical and needed response to some intolerable acts of savagery that have been consuming this town for years now, and the rest of the colony as well," Hutchinson said.

Sam was quickly perfectly focused upon the conversation that was involving the entire table.

"But maybe there could be other ways, than to simply arrest people and close their shops," Franklin protested.

"I am afraid not. And my orders are clear and emanating from the British Government itself. All duties shall be paid. If Custom duties are not paid upon a cargo, then the Crown can seize this very cargo."

"There are worse crime that can be done by a man than not being able to pay his taxes," Sam blurted out, speaking through gritted teeth.. "You leave run free men who have done much more unforgivable crimes than just being poor. And since when being poor is a crime anyway?"

Hutchinson glared at him, his jaws set. This man had caused an angry mob to destroy his house, and now this miscreant had enough nerves to talk to him with this tone?

"Mr. Adams," he answered slowly, his voice frozen, "it is the law. And whoever doesn't respect the law deserves to take responsibility for his actions. Do I make myself clear?"

Sam clenched his jaws. There was no discussion possible with him. They would never be able to reach an agreement of any kind. He didn't care about anyone but himself... Sam lowered his head above his plate, staring at his dessert.

He only looked up when he felt someone's stare upon him, and he caught Sarah's blue gaze with his own, and her glance was sad, and full of compassion.

Suddenly, Sarah heard her name being mentioned in Yuri's conversation with the Governor.

"She is firmly opposed that we would help you with this situation, Governor," Yuri told Hutchinson.

"But I'm sure _you_ could help me with this situation," answered Hutchinson, leaning towards Yuri over the table.

Next to them, Hancock was listening carefully, and clearly not liking what he was hearing.

"What am I 'firmly opposed to'?" Sarah asked from the other side of the long table, speaking loudly over the other conversations.

She didn't need an answer to know perfectly what it was all about, and she didn't like it, for sure.

"Nothing, Dr. Hugo," the Governor answered in a smile that could have belonged to a shark, "we were merely talking about your mission here."

"We will not help you in any way Governor," Sarah told him, her voice cold and firm. "We will not tell you anything, nor help you doing anything. We thank you for your hospitality and your generosity towards us, but we have already stated the boundaries of our relations, and we're staying out of your way."

Hutchinson looked intensely at her, and she stared back at him, her will inflexible.

"The King was clearly expecting something in return of our generosity towards you," he answered.

"We have offered you money, covering all the charges you may have to face because of us," Sarah replied.

"We were thinking about something else..."

"You will have nothing else."

"It is the will of the King..."

Sarah snorted wryly. By now, everyone else in the room was silent, and listening closely.

"I'm French, and I was born long after your Kind was dead, I don't owe anything to your King. He may be your King, but he is undoubtedly not mine."

There was a deafening silence across the room.

"I mean no offense," Sarah added before the wide eyes of the Governor, "I am simply stating facts. We have proposed to pay generously for the discomfort you may encounter because of us, but we have warned you that you would have no information nor help coming from us, upon any subject whatsoever. We are not taking part into anything that is happening here. And I hope you will remember it in the future, Governor."

She stood up, thanked politely Hancock again, and excused herself, before striding towards the door. Sam looked at her walking across the hall. Maybe they were not all going to choose Hutchinson's side after all...

Soon, they all departed, and Hancock shook their hands as they were leaving, politely bidding them goodbye. When he shook hand with Samuel, the latter was surprised to feel a piece of parchment against his palm.

"I hope we see each other very soon, Mr. Adams," Hancock told him.

As they were walking in the street, Sam discreetly unfolded the note and read the short message at the light of the moon. It was simply a date, an hour and an address. Sam frowned. What the hell was that...?

* * *

When someone knocked on her door, Sarah knew straightaway who it was. She sighed, standing up, wrapping a bit tighter her dressing-gown around her, and opened to Yuri. He sat down on her bed next to her. Being the only woman of the expedition had definitely an advantage, as she wasn't sharing her bedroom with anybody.

"Do I have to say it out loud?" he asked her.

His rough German accent sounded aggressive to her ears.

"I already know the lecture you're going to give me," she answered. "And you know everything about the lecture _I_ will give you. So, I don't think there's any need to say all this out loud, no."

"We can't afford to see them become our enemies."

Sarah sighed.

"But clearly you're going to give me your lecture anyway..." she said wryly.

"We need these people by our side. And I'm sorry if reality is difficult to cope with, but if we need to make a few arrangements along the way to ensure that this mission will be a success..."

"'A _few_ arrangements'? Can you hear yourself?"

"It's not the end of the world..."

"It could be! It could be the end of our world!"

"This is crazy, this way you have to always keep us in the past, when I am struggling to make us all reach the future!"

"But there is no future possible without a past, Yuri. If you change something here, in the past, you may not even exist in two hundred years. You have no idea. We have no idea, it's too dangerous, we can't take the risk!"

"You're always pulling us all back..."

"No, I'm trying to ensure our very existence, but you're too narrow-minded to see it!"

"I'm tired of all this."

"You know you're not the one in the best position in this room, Yuri."

He glowered at her, before rising, and heading towards the door again. He turned one last time towards her.

"Are you going to threaten me with this same old thing every time we don't agree?" he asked her through gritted teeth.

"I will always do what is necessary to follow my conscience. And in this case, it tells me to protect the timeline at all cost. So yes, I will use the 'same old thing every time', if it's the only way to prevent you from destroying everything these people are meant to become."

"Would you really use it?"

She stared at him.

"You know perfectly I would."

* * *

Sam opened the door of what seemed to be a deserted house, near the docks. The interior was dusty, and empty, except for an old wooden table in the centre. Further away, Hancock was sitting in a corner, alone, bending over his knees. He looked up at the sound of the closing door.

" _Ah, Mr. Adams, thank you for coming."_

" _It's your warehouse?_ " Sam asked him, looking around him as he was walking further in the room.

" _It is one of my warehouses, yes,_ " Hancock answered slowly.

" _Looking a little spared,_ " Sam pointed out before the emptiness of the room.

" _Yes, someone took my ship._ "

" _Hutchinson?_ "

" _Hmm, yes, Hutchinson took my ship,_ " Hancock answered with a nervous little laugh.

Sam took a look at the abandoned items on the table, while Hancock was still sitting further away in the room.

" _If you're looking for sympathy,_ " Sam told him slowly in a colder tone, " _I'm afraid you summoned the wrong man._ "

Sam sat down on the table, looking at Hancock.

" _I am not looking for sympathy,_ " Hancock answered slowly in what sounded for him like an angry voice.

" _Then what is it you want, Hancock?_ "

Hancock leaned further towards Sam, stressing each of his words with a gesture of his hand.

" _Hutchinson has sent me back, but he has not shut me down. The ship he took, is one of my many in my fleet,_ " he added, looking now at Sam. " _I have many more tones of cargo, many more cases of wine, waiting just beyond the horizon._ "

Sam shrugged.

" _Alright... and what that has got to do with me?_ "

" _I need a way to get that cargo into the city without Hutchinson, and without paying taxes and_ you _are going to help me._ "

Sam smiled, half-amused.

" _You're being serious,_ " he merely answered.

He narrowed his eyes, still staring at the businessman.

"Is it the only reason you invited me to your party the other night? Just to pass me a note and try to use me as a smuggler?"

"It was first Benjamin Franklin's idea," Hancock defended himself. "So that you could meet the scientists, and talk with Hutchinson."

"But why did you accept to invite me, Hancock?"

The merchant didn't answer, and Sam let out a wry, breathy laugh.

"Well, I guess things are getting much clearer..."

" _You owe me,_ " Hancock told him a urged whisper, staring at Samuel's eyes.

Sam clenched his jaws, his smile gone.

" _I don't recall there had been any strings to our deal._ "

Hancock forced himself to relax, realizing that he had to change his arguments if he wanted to make a deal with Adams.

" _I can pay,_ " he said, his voice calmer.

Sam stood up again, and walked slowly towards the dirty window.

" _I know there are many men out of work,_ " Hancock added. " _This could be very lucrative for you all. It is an opportunity. You have the influence..._ "

Sam turned around slowly, looking at Hancock again.

"... _I have the money. Why don't we combine our talents, and enjoy the spoils together?_ "

Hancock stood up, biting his lips.

" _Hmm?_ "

Sam sighed heavily. It was a mad idea. But then, he had always been quite reckless himself...


	4. The Coin Is The Key

**Here is a new chapter! I hope you like it.**

 **One scene is taken from the series here.**

 **I don't know if you already know, but a Geiger counter is a measurement device that measures the radiation rate. It makes an awfully annoying sound when you turn it on, like some kind of buzzing... It's terribly irritating, trust me.**

 **Next update on Monday. Please, tell me what you think about this chapter, and about my story so far :)**

* * *

 **The Coin Is The Key.**

Doctor Warren walked through the muddy alley, heading towards the main street. When he arrived at the corner, he caught sight of Christopher.

" _Christopher, what are you doing here?_ " Joseph asked the little boy, frowning slightly in surprise of finding him here and not at his parents' shop.

" _Get back,_ " Christopher urged him.

The child looked quickly around him, and hid a bit more behind the corner of the house, hiding from the main street.

" _Where's your mother?_ " Warren asked him, frowning more than ever before the boy's strange behaviour.

" _I'm helping Mr. Adams,_ " Christopher merely replied.

" _You mean Sam?_ " Warren asked him, leaning against the wall of the house behind which the boy was hiding.

Christopher nodded, leaning against the wall as well.

" _He's giving me money, for my lookout._ "

" _Lookout for what?_ "

Right at this moment, Sam appeared in the street, driving a cart with Amos. They were soon stopped by a soldier.

Sam cursed him silently, before jumping down on the ground.

" _Is there a problem?_ " he asked the soldier.

The British merely looked suspiciously at him, before walking further towards the cargo, protected by a thick blanket.

Sam clenched his fists, his brain working at full speed to try to find an idea. And he needed one right now...

The soldier reached for the blanket.

...An idea, quick... If he found out what his cargo was...

Sam opened his mouth, but he didn't have time to speak. Behind him, he recognized the voice of Joseph calling for help.

He turned around, the soldier doing just the same. Christopher was lying on the ground, coughing fiercely, whilst Warren was kneeling beside him, a hand under the boy's head, the other on his chest.

" _Somebody, please! Please ,someone!_ " Warren cried.

The soldier hurried towards him, and Joseph urged him to go bring him back what he needed to treat the boy. A few feet away from Sam and Warren, Sarah and Ben Franklin were coming out of a shop, eating an apple. They stopped as they caught sight of the boy. Two more soldiers joined Warren and Christopher. Before he would run search for what the doctor had required, the first soldier gave a recommendation to his colleagues.

"You should look at the cart down there, I don't trust the man," he said.

He went running through the street, whilst the two others were heading towards Samuel. Warren and him exchanged a worried look. Sarah didn't allow herself the time to think properly.

"Excuse me gentlemen," she called the two soldiers, walking towards them.

She smiled at them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she told the soldiers, whilst Franklin was joining her. "But I would need some of my equipment, but it's too heavy for me to carry, and all my colleagues are busy, and can't help me with it. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

The two soldiers exchanged a glance, hesitating.

"It's perfectly fine if you're busy. I guess I'll have to carry it myself then, though it's terribly heavy..."

"Of course not, Ms. Hugo," one of the soldier answered. "We would be happy to help."

Her smile widened.

"Thank you so much! Well, I would need the first grey chest in the Hall of our house. Mr. Franklin, could you show the two gentlemen, while I'm making the first measurements here?"

"Of course," Franklin answered, an amused smile badly hidden on his lips. "Please, follow me."

He guided the two soldiers away from the street, and Warren helped Christopher to get up.

"Thank you," Warren told her, surprised nonetheless by her intervention.

"You're welcome," she merely answered in a smile.

Sam nodded to the scientist, quite surprised himself, though a bit annoyed as well at the thought of owing anything to her. He turned towards Warren instead.

" _Thank you, Joseph. That was clever._ "

" _What have you gotten yourself into now?_ " asked the doctor, an amused smile badly hidden on his lips.

" _Nothing,_ " Sam replied in an innocent tone.

Warren took a look at the cargo, before looking up at his friend again.

" _Nothing?_ "

Sam looked down at Christopher.

" _Nice one,_ " he told the boy, before directing the cart further in the street again.

" _You don't think I know that look?_ " Warren asked Sam as he was moving away. " _The one that is constantly getting you in trouble._ "

Warren sighed, turning towards Sarah again.

"That was kind of you," he thanked her again. "Though, I thought you had decided not to get involved in any event whatsoever?"

Sarah shrugged.

"Clearly I'm not good at good resolutions."

They smiled, before Sarah would turn towards the boy. She recognized him in a second as the boy who's father had been taken away a few weeks before. By the sight of his clothes, his mother and him were still facing hard times.

"I was wondering..." she told him kindly. "We'll soon have to work further in town, and none of us know the place right. Do you know anyone who could guide us through the city? Against some remuneration, of course."

Christopher smiled at her.

"I know very well the streets myself. I could help."

"Wouldn't it bother you?"

"Of course not. I can help you, if you wish."

She grinned.

"Right, then I'll make sure to call for you if I need your help."

She turned towards Warren.

"I'd better get back to the house, before the soldiers notice that the chest is full of clothes..."

They laughed happily, and Warren thanked her again, before walking away.

In the meantime, Sam was arriving at Paul Revere's. He jumped out of the cart, and walked towards Hancock.

"How did it go?" the businessman asked him.

Sam merely pulled up the blanket, revealing the bottle of wine he had just picked up from the bottom of the harbour that very morning.

" _Bravo! Bravo!_ " Hancock complimented him, grinning.

He looked cautiously at Sam, still smiling.

" _How much of this do you think you could handle?_ " he asked him slowly.

Sam smiled, his eyes shining with mischief.

" _How much do you have?_ "

* * *

It had been months now since they had arrived in the Colony. They had inspected every inch of the square, took samples of water in the ocean nearby, and run analyses on the walls of the houses around the square, had made measurements at the opening and closing of the bridge... And the results were beyond anything Yuri could have imagined. It was only the beginning of their study, and yet it was already incredible. He was more than overexcited. But now they needed to extend their researches further into the city, and for this, he needed the permission of the Governor, as Hutchinson had explicitly required from him and his colleagues. The six scientists could go as they pleased during their free time, but they were not allowed to carry their experiment out of the square without noticing Hutchinson in the first place. So Yuri walked into the Governor's office, smiling.

"Dr. Einbrecher," Hutchinson greeted the scientist. "What can I do for you?"

"We would need to make some research further in the city," Yuri told him. "And as you asked of us to ask you the permission first..."

"I see," Hutchinson nodded.

He stood up, his hands behind his back, and walked to the window, looking at the busy street outside. The night was already falling, and the houses had a strange orange shade, their windows ignited with the fire of the dying sun.

"I understand, and of course, I would be glad to grant you this permission, but..."

He let his words suspended in mid air for a moment, before pursuing.

"...I will ask you to do something for me first."

He turned towards the scientist, who was frowning by now.

"You are going to help me get rid of a problem. Or else I will not allow you in my town anymore."

He walked closer to Yuri again, and sat down on the corner of his desk, facing the scientist.

"You see, I know something is going on in this town. I know that some have found a way not to pay their taxes on their goods. And, as I represent the King, it is my duty that everyone, in this town, respects the law, and thus pay their taxes. Do you understand?"

Yuri nodded slowly.

"Well, the problem is, I don't know where to look. I am searching for some information in an entire city. And I need your help to narrow my researches. You're going to tell me in which part of the city the smugglers are operating."

Yuri stared at him in the eyes.

"What makes you think that I know anything about smugglers? I'm a scientist, merely a scientist."

"You're coming from the future."

"Do you really think that I know anything about a band of thugs who were operating more than two hundred years before I was born, and not even in my own country?"

"Surely you have studied the time and place where you were going. I know you know something. And as long as you will not give me a tip, you will not be allowed to continue your researches. Is it clear?"

Yuri clenched his jaws, looking down at his knees, thinking hard. He had to give the Governor something, or he wouldn't be able to work anymore. And he needed so desperately to work...

"Maybe..." Yuri said slowly. "Maybe you should pay a visit to Mr. Revere and his friends. They don't seem to be very honest people, don't you think?"

The two men stared at each other for a while, before Governor Hutchinson would smile slowly.

"When would you like to start your experiments?" he asked Yuri.

"Tomorrow, if possible. As soon as you will allow us to."

Hutchinson nodded slowly. He didn't have proofs for now against Revere and his band of thugs, he couldn't simply walk into their shop... he needed to catch them red-handed, and in a cleverer way...

"My soldiers will escort you tomorrow through Boston, and shall remain with you all day long, until you have reached your house again."

Yuri nodded.

"Pablo, Yoko and I are going to stay in the house, to finish what we are currently working on. But Sarah, Michael and James will go."

"They shall start with Mr. Revere's workshop."

Yuri nodded slowly, glimpsing at the Governor's plan.

"Of course."

He stood up, and walked towards the door. He would do what was necessary to keep working...

* * *

The next morning, Yuri announced the good news to his colleagues: they would be able to work outside the square that very day.

"Great! I guess I should warn Mr. Franklin then, he said he would come with us," Sarah said merrily.

"Soldiers will accompany you, you don't need Ben Franklin," Yuri told her.

She frowned.

"Soldiers, why?"

"Our safety I guess," Yuri shrugged.

He picked up a sheet of paper, faking to read to look casual.

"You'll start with Mr. Revere's workshop."

Michael frowned.

"I thought we were supposed to start with the docks."

"I've changed my mind, you'll start with Revere's workshop."

"Since when do you take this kind of decisions without asking us if we agree?" asked James, quite angry.

"Since I am the one in charge of this mission, which means since the very beginning," Yuri snapped back. "And you'll do as I say, James."

Sarah nodded slowly.

"No need to get angry, it doesn't matter anyway," she told them in a soothing voice. "Let's get ready."

She walked towards the door, quickly followed by Michael and James.

"Soldiers can't go to Revere's workshop," Michael whispered to Sarah as they were picking up their stuffs in their bedrooms.

"I know," Sarah answered.

"Hutchinson is using us as an excuse to try to catch Revere and Adams smuggling," James whispered as well. "Do you think Yuri knows?"

Sarah snorted wryly.

"I bet he gave Hutchinson the idea in the first place."

She flung her bag on her shoulder, and hurried towards the front door. Waiting there were five soldiers, and Christopher, whom she had called the previous evening as she knew they would probably work outside the square that day. She smiled at him.

"Good morning, Christopher. How are you?"

"Fine Ms. Hugo, thanks. Will you need a guide today?"

"Yes, would you mind coming with me to warn Mr. Franklin that we'll work outside the square today?"

He followed her to the adjacent house, and she opened quickly the door, calling for Franklin. She made sure the soldiers could not hear anything that was said in the house.

"Ah, Sarah, I was about to come to your house," Franklin told her, walking out of the kitchen with a cup of tea.

"We have a problem, Dr. Franklin," Sarah told him.

He immediately stopped sipping his tea.

"What's wrong?"

"Yuri has spoken to Hutchinson yesterday, and I think he gave him information against Revere and Adams."

Christopher's eyes grew wide, while Franklin was frowning.

"And, it is any of our concern?" the elder man asked her.

"Yes, Mr. Franklin, this is one of our concerns. They can't get caught. They're not supposed to get caught. Hutchinson is using our experimentations of today to try to catch them red-handed, and we can't let that happen."

She turned quickly towards Christopher, bending to face him.

"I need you to go warn Paul Revere and Samuel Adams that the British soldiers are on their way. They must hide everything they own illegally, and warn the other members of their web, who could get caught too. Do you understand?"

Christopher nodded, his eyes still a bit round.

"Then, I want you to stay at your mother's shop. When you'll get out of here, don't run. Run only when you're out of the sight of the soldiers in faction here."

He nodded again.

"Alright, let's go then. Dr. Franklin, we'll need you too."

The elder man finished his tea in one gulp, grabbed his coat and hurried towards the door behind Sarah and Christopher. The boy walked across the square, whilst Michael and James were coming out of the house, along with Yuri.

"Wasn't the boy supposed to be your guide or something?" Yuri asked Sarah, frowning.

"He had to work at his mother's shop, so I sent him back," Sarah answered.

Yuri nodded, and watched as his colleagues were slowly walking across the square, chatting merrily. Maybe they were walking a bit too slowly...

* * *

Christopher came storming inside the workshop. Everyone around there knew the boy, and they merely threw him an amused look as he was running towards Sam, who was counting their profits in the adjacent room.

"Mr. Adams! Mr. Adams!" he called, panting.

"What is it Christopher?"

Sam sighed. Here, he had lost the count...

"The British soldiers are coming!"

Sam looked at him, suddenly stern.

"What?"

Revere and Kelly walked into the room as well to listen to the boy, everyone in the workshop now listening.

"I was supposed to guide Ms. Hugo and her colleagues through the town today. So I went to the scientists' house this morning. There, Ms. Hugo and I, we went to look for Dr. Franklin. But in his house, she warned us that Hutchinson and one of her colleagues had talked, and that the Governor was using the fact that they were working outside the square to have a good reason to come look into the workshop, looking for the goods we have here."

"When will they be here?" asked Paul.

Christopher shrugged.

"Not long, they were coming here directly. Ms. Hugo sent me to warn you to hide everything, and quickly. And also to send people to warn all the other shops that have illegal goods."

"Are we going to trust them?" asked Kelly.

"Even if we don't trust them, we can't take the risk," Paul answered.

He turned towards Sam.

"We have to hide everything, quickly."

Sam nodded, giving orders, and everyone started to hide the wine they were keeping inside the workshop. But there was too much alcohol... Soon, someone knocked on the door. They all froze.

Sam nodded to Kelly to go open the door, while he was hiding next to the entrance, a pistol in his hand, ready to act.

There was another urging knock upon the door.

Kelly opened slowly... to discover a panting Sarah.

"Hi," she said. "Is Mr. Revere here?"

Paul advanced slowly towards the door, Sam still in position.

"Ms. Hugo," he nodded to her.

"Are you ready? Is everything hidden?" she asked him urgently.

Kelly, him and Sam exchanged a glance.

"The soldiers are coming, you don't have time left. Is everything in safety?" Sarah asked again.

Paul shook slowly his head, looking still cautiously at her.

"Can you earn us a bit of time?"

Sarah shook her head, and pushed slightly Kelly to look inside the workshop. There was still an entire shelf filled up with bottles of wine there, in the left corner. Sarah winced.

"You won't have time."

She bit her lip.

"Merde..." she cursed in French under her breath, her brain racing.

Suddenly, she turned around, calling for Michael. The second scientist appeared quickly by her side.

"The survival blanket, quickly," she ordered him.

"Shit," Michael mumbled, as he was catching sight of the shelf, "you won't have enough time to hide that."

"The survival blanket, Michael," Sarah repeated.

He frowned slightly, before smiling.

"Got it."

She made a movement to enter, but Kelly held her back.

"We didn't say you could come inside," he told her.

"You have to let us help you. Now," she answered, looking at Revere.

Paul sighed, and nodded, letting them in. Sam finally lowered his weapon.

"What are you doing?" he asked the two scientists as they were hurrying towards the shelf, unfolding a strange blanket, that seemed to be made of gold and silver.

"Saving your arse," Sarah answered.

They draped the survival blanket upon the shelf. Luckily, the shelf was set against the wall, and the blanket was just long enough to hide all the bottles. They put on a pair of gloves, and Sarah handed Michael a Geiger counter, whilst he was passing her safety glasses. She put them upon her nose, and turned the Geiger counter on. Everyone but the scientists started as the weird buzzing noise of the counter was piercing the air. Right at this moment, the soldiers were coming inside the workshop.

"Ah, here you come," Sarah told them kindly with a smile. "I was starting to think we had lost you."

Michael was now passing slowly the Geiger counter above the table in the right corner of the room, Sarah remaining near the shelf.

The soldiers started to look around, searching everywhere.

"Have you lost something?" Sam asked them wryly, as one of the soldier was bending down to look under a table.

The soldier merely glowered at him in response, before resuming his careful search.

"Still don't have any sense of humor, do you?" Revere said, making Kelly laugh softly.

Sarah picked up a notebook and started to write a series of numbers, whilst keeping a careful eye on the blond soldier who was dangerously approaching the hidden shelf...

Sam clenched his pistol in his hand, hiding it behind his back.

...The soldier took a closer look at the strange material. It looked like gold, but it was very thin...

There was a shy clicking noise, and Sam and Kelly exchanged a look, as Sam was ready to fire.

...The blond soldier raised his hand to reach the strange object...

"NO!"

Everyone started at the sound of Sarah's cried.

"Are you mad?!" she asked angrily at the young man all dressed in red and white. "Do you know what this is?"

He shook sheepishly his head, surprised by the angry voice of the woman in front of him.

"Why do you think I'm wearing gloves and glasses?" she asked him, pointing at the heavy safety glasses on her nose. "This thing could kill you!"

The soldier took quickly several steps back, along with everyone in the room, and Michael turned towards the wall to hide the amused smile he couldn't refrain.

The officer came back in the workshop after having checked the adjacent rooms. Sam recognized him in a second. It was the officer who had run after him that night, when they had destroyed the Governor's House.

"Is there a problem?" he asked the scientist in a cold voice.

Sarah sighed, annoyed.

"I know you're doing your job, but I'm also trying to do mine. And I can't do _my_ job if your colleagues try to touch something that could kill them every three seconds."

She wavered towards the shelf hidden under the shiny blanket.

"And I'm not even mentioning the fact that all your movements around the room are messing up with everything, and all my measures will probably have to be redone."

She sighed again.

"Look, for sure you've checked the place, and it's perfectly safe. Could you let us work now, please?"

The officer clenched his jaws, but nodded anyway, and walked out of the workshop with his men. Right at the same time, Ben Franklin and James came in. They waited for the soldiers to be further away in the street, being now out of earshot, before closing the door.

Michael heaved a deep sigh.

"That one was close," he told Sarah, smiling.

She smiled back at him, chuckling nervously.

James frowned at the two of them.

"Why are you wearing safety glasses and gloves for manipulating Geiger counters? And why are you using Geiger counters?"

"The noise always scares everyone here," Michael answered.

"Same for glasses and gloves," Sarah added.

They both took off their protections, turning their counters off and thus shushing the annoying buzzing sound.

Revere started when he saw Sarah touching the survival blanket.

"Isn't it dangerous?" he asked.

Sarah laughed.

"No, don't worry," she reassured him. "It's just shiny, so it looks weird to people from here. Actually, it's a blanket. You cover wounded people with it to keep them warm. So, you see, no danger."

Michael and her folded the survival blanket back into Michael's bag. Franklin took a closer look at the wine.

"Ah... Now, I see why soldiers coming in here could have get you all into trouble with our dear Governor," he said, an amused smile on his face.

"Why did you do this?" Sam blurted out.

They all turned towards him. His dark gaze travelled back and forth among these four people he didn't know, and had helped them anyway.

"Why did you warn us? Why did come here and help us to hide the wine?"

"You were not supposed to get caught today," James answered.

Sam and Paul exchanged a look, both frowning.

"The soldiers only came here because we were coming," Michael added. "If it hadn't been for us, none of this would have happened."

"We can't change History," Sarah told them. "Anything that happens because we're here, and only because we're here is a danger. If the soldiers were not supposed to come search your workshop today, then they had to find nothing."

Franklin turned towards Sam.

"You have built an entire underground market, haven't you?"

Sam stared at him, but didn't reply. And Franklin took his silence for a yes. He chuckled, looking back at the shelf, thinking.

"Well, it's a way to bring the money where it is needed the most, I guess."

He turned towards Sam and Revere again, a mischievous glint alit in his eyes.

"You wouldn't sell us a bottle or two, by any chance?"

The three scientists couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, as we're escaping prison thanks to you, I guess we could even _offer_ you a bottle or two," Paul smiles at Franklin.

He walked towards the shelf and handed the elder man two bottles of red wine.

"Well, thank you. And... is there a way of having more? For any future need, I mean?"

Kelly and Paul looked at Sam.

He didn't like trusting them, he didn't like them knowing their secrets, he didn't like the whole situation he was in right now. He looked up as he was feeling Sarah's stare upon him, and he looked at her deep blue eyes for a moment, before sighing. If they had wanted them to get caught, they simply had to do nothing today. It was worth the risk. And Franklin was from here, he was from Boston, he had grown up in the same streets than he had, he wasn't agreeing with anything that was going on in this town either, he didn't agree with Hutchinson. Maybe he could be an advantage later...

Sam nodded at Kelly, who handed Franklin a little coin.

"Show this coin, and we'll know you're in. There are several shops that sell for us, or you can still come to the Green Dragon."

Franklin nodded, thanking him and Kelly gave a coin to Sarah, James and Michael as well.

"We'd better go," Sarah told the others, checking her watch.

"We have talked to the boy," Franklin informed her," and he had assured me that all the shops in the sector would be warned on time."

She nodded, and strode towards the door.

"Well, have a good day gentlemen," she smiled at them merrily, before exiting the workshop.

"Hey," Sam called them back.

He stared back at Sarah when she locked her blue eyes upon his dark glance.

"Thank you," he said.

Sarah smiled.

"Anytime, Mr. Adams."

They walked away again, and Sam looked at them disappearing at the corner, before getting back inside.

Michael kept examining the coin, turning the shiny piece of metal between his fingers, in pure bliss.

"You know it's supposed to be a secret coin, right?" Sarah teased him. "You're not supposed to spend your time playing with it in the middle of the street."

"I've seen some in Museums, I had never thought I would ever touch one," Michael said, almost whispering, talking to himself. "I had never thought I would own one."

Sarah looked at him, and smiled tenderly. Though inside her, she was tortured by worry.

* * *

Yuri entered Hutchinson's desk, full of apprehension. Since their last conversation, Yuri wasn't seeing the Governor as an ally anymore, more as an enemy. A potential threat to his project. A problem that he couldn't get rid of, and would keep being a thorn in his side all along this mission. The Governor gestured him to sit, without greeting him at all.

"My men have come back from their expedition downtown," he told Yuri, his voice shaking with anger. "And they have come back with..."

He opened his hands, and presented them open palmed to Yuri.

"...nothing."

Yuri struggled to swallow, though he kept a blank expression before the Governor.

" _You_ told me I was going to find something at Paul Revere's workshop, and I found nothing! And I hope you have a good explanation."

Yuri merely shrugged.

"I don't know what I could answer, Governor. I guess I was wrong. I'm not an expert of this period after all. I thought you would find something at Paul Revere's workshop, having heard about what kind of man he is, but I guess he was innocent in this particular crime."

"This kind of mistake will not happen again, doctor," the Governor warned him.

Yuri shrugged again.

"I'm not omnipotent Governor, I'm afraid I am merely a scientist. I can't know everything. And though it is obvious that you are looking for someone to blame, it is not my fault if you found nothing there."

"Out. Now," the angry Governor commanded.

Yuri strode out of the house, and headed towards his own home.

He knew perfectly what had happened. He knew it was Sarah's fault. She had sent the little boy warn Adams and Revere that the British soldiers were coming.

He sat down in a chair near the fire and looked at Sarah, who was reading near the window. He looked at her as the light of the moon was bathing her dark hair, and shining in her blue eyes. Her glance was so deep, and wild, an untamed ocean that was piercing right through every soul it touched. She was amazingly beautiful, sitting there, in the moonlight, her head bent over her book, her gaze focused on her reading... He looked away, and watch the dancing flames in the hearth instead.

He knew it was her who had warned Adams and Revere. And she knew he was the one who had told Hutchinson to send his soldiers there. But there was no use in telling her. He knew she would never change her mind, and clearly, if she hadn't spoken to him about it yet, she knew as well as he did that he was as determined as she was. Nothing good would come out of a new lecture, she would simply despise him more than she already did.

And God knew it hurt him terribly to see this look of hatred and pity in her wonderful blue eyes every time she looked at him...

They were both playing a dangerous game of chess, guessing the other's implication in every event, to try to have a better glimpse at the other's next move. Yes, they were playing a dangerous game indeed, and Yuri hoped this game would not turn into a war.


	5. How Things Crumble

**Here comes a new chapter, hope you like it.**

 **Three scenes come from the series in this chapter.**

 **Thank you for your review GreTheresa, you're the best.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this new chapter :)**

* * *

 **How Things Crumble**

"How much more do you need, Ms. Hugo?" Christopher asked Sarah.

He filled up one more empty bottle with some water from the harbour.

"At least one or two Christopher," Sarah answered. "Thank you again for your help."

"I'm happy to help, Ms. Hugo."

"Christopher, again, you can call me Sarah. Calling me by my last name makes me feel like I'm eighty years old!" she told the boy, laughing.

He laughed as well, handing her the bottle full of water, upon which she wrote the time and the coordinates.

"Right, one more five meters from here," she told the boy.

She helped the child measuring five meters, and let him fill up the bottle, using a long rope and a basket.

"Why do you need water from the harbour?" Christopher asked her. "You know you can't drink it, right?"

She laughed merrily.

"I know, it's not for drinking. We're going to analyze the composition of this water, to see if the bridge has changed the natural composition of the environment around its opening spot."

"And... it will help you understanding how it works?"

"Yes, it will."

"How long will it take? To understand how the bridge works?"

"I don't know," Sarah answered in a shrug. "Years for sure, maybe dozens of years."

"Are you going to stay here for so long? You've already been here for more than a year!"

"I hope not. I'm beginning to really miss my period."

"Why don't you go back there, and then come again here after a while? When you don't miss your period anymore."

"We don't know well the effects of time-travel upon humans. 'Better not try it too much while we don't understand the phenomenon better."

Christopher suddenly rose, and waved at Sam and Joseph, who were walking across the docks, talking. Warren headed straight towards the boy and Sarah, forcing Sam to follow his lead.

"Dr. Hugo," he greeted her, bowing slightly. "Hello Christopher!"

"Good morning, Dr. Warren," Sarah smiled, shaking his hand.

She turned towards Sam, grinning.

"Good morning, Mr. Adams."

He nodded to her, shaking the hand she was offering him. He couldn't look away from her blue eyes for a while.

"What are you two doing?" Warren asked them.

"I'm helping Sarah to take water for her analyzes," replied proudly Christopher.

"Sarah? Really?" Sam smiled, amused.

Christopher looked sheepishly at the scientist.

"She said it was alright..."

"It is. Don't listen to them, and don't start to call me by my family name again," Sarah ordered him, a smile on her lips.

"Yes, Sarah."

The three of them laughed softly at the boy.

"Right, another bottle, please. Five meters from here. And then, I reckon we'll be good for today."

They advanced of five more meters, and Christopher let a bottle slip down towards the water again.

"I've heard you have all been invited to Mr. Hancock's party to celebrate the King's birthday," Warren told Sarah. "Are you going to attend?"

She couldn't help but wince.

"Dr. Franklin says we have to," she answered. "So, apparently, we will."

"You don't seem to like very much celebrations," Sam pointed out.

"I don't especially like not being able to breathe, as a first thing," Sarah joked. "And... I feel more out of place there than anywhere else in this period. You know with all the... powder, and wigs, and huge dresses..."

"When are you going to go home?" Warren asked her, clearly concerned about her.

Sarah merely shrugged.

"Science is a quite unpredictable art, I'm afraid."

Christopher handed her a new bottle.

"Thank you very much," she told him, writing down the time and place on the bottle, before putting it in a case now full of samples. "Here, done!"

She closed the case, before turning towards the two gentlemen again.

"Well, have a good day gentlemen. I need to go back to the house now. I'm afraid this morning walk will have earned me a full night of work, at least."

"Have a good day, Ms. Hugo," Warren nodded to her. "I have to go see a patient," he added to both Sam and Sarah.

Sam nodded, shaking the doctor's hand. He was about to say goodbye to Sarah as well, when he noticed that she might need some help.

"Alright, Christopher," she told the boy, bending to reach the case. "You take the other side of this thing. At two, we should carry it."

"Let me help," Sam proposed instantly, forcing the scientist to stand straighter.

He bent down, and lifted up effortlessly the case full of bottles, and they headed towards the scientist's house again.

"Are you sure it's not too heavy?" Sarah asked him, clearly concerned. "Don't you want a bit of help?"

Sam merely smiled, amused.

"I can carry it, don't worry."

They soon reached the house, and Sarah quickly opened the door for Sam to get in.

"You can just... put it there," she told him, pointing at the nearest table.

Sam quickly got out of the house, and Sarah followed him. She paid Christopher for his day of service, and the little boy ran away. She turned towards Sam.

"Well... thank you for the case, it was a bit heavy for Christopher and I, I'm afraid."

"No problem," he merely answered.

There was a short silence, during which they were barely staring at each other's eyes.

"I'd like to thank you again," Sam told her, "for the other day, when you helped us with the Red Coats."

"Don't mention it," she smiled.

Another silence...

"I... I should go," Sam said slowly. "Good day, Ms. Hugo."

"Good day, Mr. Adams."

They kept staring at each other in the eyes for a while, before Sam would finally shake himself, and turn around, walking away from the house. Sarah hurried inside, sighing.

She had to admit, he had wonderful dark eyes...

* * *

"At least, this time, I don't have to come to your rescue. You're not choking to death."

"Very funny, Michael. Thank you for your sense of compassion."

"You're welcome, Sarah. You know I'm always glad to help."

"I had noticed."

Ben Franklin chuckled softly in his drink.

"Have you any idea of where our host could possibly be hiding?" James asked Franklin.

"None, I'm afraid," the gentleman answered. "Surely, he's making us all wait, to make an extraordinary entrance."

Michael couldn't help but roll his eyes.

In a corner, Yuri and Hutchinson were talking, whispering, whilst Pablo and Yoko were talking with other merchants. Franklin caught Sarah's eyes lingering suspiciously on Yuri and the Governor.

"Would I smell the perfume of suspicion around you and Dr. Einbrecher?" the elder man said.

Sarah looked down at her glass.

"There's always this fragrance in the air around us indeed."

"Now more than ever, I would say."

"I don't like seeing him so close to the Governor."

"I bet he doesn't like you being close to me either."

Sarah smiled.

"I'm sure you're right, Dr. Franklin."

A mischievous glint was suddenly alit in her blue eyes.

"And I'm afraid that the more something annoys him, the more I'm glad to do it!"

They all laughed merrily.

Suddenly, Hancock appeared upon the landing.

" _Welcome, welcome. Ladies, and Gentlemen,_ " Hancock said, his voice even slower and more posh than usual, " _it is my pleasure to welcome you all to this occasion, to mark the birthday of our glorious King George._ "

He turned around, and picked up his glass of wine that he had put upon the windowsill. He raised his glass high.

" _The King!_ " he cried.

" _The King!_ " the crowd echoed.

Hancock started to climb down the last flight of stairs.

" _Enjoy,_ " he added, as he was coming near the end of the stairs.

He spoke to a blond young woman, and Sarah couldn't help but smile at the way people were flirting at this period. Hancock suddenly caught the scientist's gaze, as Hutchinson and Yuri were starting to walk towards him. Hancock ignored them, asking them to wait with a gesture of the hand.

"What a pleasure to see you all four here!" Hancock greeted them warmly, shaking their hands one by one. "How are you?"

"Very fine, Mr. Hancock, thank you," Sarah smiled.

"It's a beautiful reception," James complimented his host.

"Thank you," Hancock grinned.

Hancock leaned closer to the scientists, lowering his voice, so that no one around would hear.

"I have heard about your very generous and perilous action towards Mr. Adams the other day..."

He looked intensely at Sarah, trying to silently tell her that he was in it too, but she smiled reassuringly at him.

"From where else could the wine come from but your own cargo, Mr. Hancock? Don't worry, your secret is safe with us."

"And... what about your other colleagues?"

Sarah threw a dark look at Yuri over Hancock's shoulder.

"Well... I would not trust them, if I were you. I don't trust them myself. Especially Yuri."

"Your relations with Dr. Einbrecher seem quite bad indeed," Hancock nodded slowly.

"Yes, they are. And I guess your relations with the Governor must be quite bad themselves."

Hancock turned around, looking at the Governor.

"They are indeed."

"He thinks you're naive, and a bit stupid," Sarah told him earnestly.

"He does indeed," Hancock nodded slowly, smiling at the scientist.

"But we both know you're not," Sarah smiled at him.

"No, I don't think I am."

Hancock heaved a deep sigh.

"But we'd better let him think this way, for a bit longer, don't you think?"

"I think so too," Sarah nodded.

"I hope you enjoy the party," Hancock bowed slightly before them, exchanging a smile with the scientists and Franklin, and strode towards Hutchinson and Yuri.

" _Mr. Hancock,_ " the Governor nodded to him.

" _Ah, Governor,_ " Hancock answered, before turning towards Yuri. "Good evening, Dr. Einbrecher."

"Good evening, Mr. Hancock."

"Doctor, would you leave us a moment?" asked Hutchinson quite coldly.

Yuri clenched his jaws, but nodded anyway, before walking towards Yoko and Pablo.

" _Walk with me,_ " Hutchinson invited Hancock. " _About that business with your ship... Everyone needs to learn a lesson some time, that was just your turn._ "

" _Indeed,_ " murmured Hancock.

Hancock suddenly turned around towards another guest who was calling for him. His large gestures, and his slow tone, and his way to stand very straight... It made Hutchinson want to throw up.

" _Lovely celebration, John,_ " the gentleman told Hancock.

" _Eberniz!_ " cried the host. " _How are you?_ "

" _I'm very good, my friend. Thank you._ "

Behind Hancock, Hutchinson was fuming. How could he dare make him _wait_?!

" _I'm so please you could both attend,_ " Hancock went on, " _you and your beautiful wife. What a pleasure! Please, enjoy._ "

" _Thank you, John._ "

Hancock slowly turned towards Hutchinson again, walking a bit further by his side, but only a bit further...

" _The suit is_ absolutely _wonderful,_ " Hancock interrupted Hutchinson, turning towards Eberniz again, and thus noticing the Governor that he didn't care much about their conversation. " _Well, thank you._ "

Finally, whilst the Governor was struggling to control himself, Hancock turned towards him again.

" _Governor?_ "

" _What do you have going on?_ " Hutchinson asked him quite bluntly.

" _Hmmm... I'm just a man going about his trade._ "

" _Really?_ "

Hutchinson's Aide called for him, but the Governor stopped him with a gesture of the hand.

" _Well, perhaps we should discuss that trade later,_ " Hutchinson told Hancock. " _It seems full of opportunities._ "

" _Indeed._ "

Hutchinson walked away.

" _Joshua,_ " Hancock bade Hutchinson's aide goodbye. " _Governor._ "

He watched the Governor walk away. Hutchinson might be thinking that he had brought him down. But he would prove the gentleman wrong.

* * *

Joseph followed the men throughout Paul Revere's workshop. He couldn't say he was surprised to find Sam sitting on a table, counting the money they had made that week, and Christopher putting bottles in a case as the men were walking in an adjacent room. Sam looked up at him, frowning slightly.

" _How did you get in here?_ " Sam asked the doctor.

" _Kelly let me in,_ " Warren answered, patting the boy's shoulder and walking towards Sam.

Christopher frowned hard.

" _Dr. Warren? You're in on this as well?_ "

" _In on what?_ " Warren asked back, looking at Sam.

Sam merely let slip a small smile on his lips, and shook hands with the doctor.

" _Mr. Adams, he's striking back at the Red Coats,_ " answered Christopher.

" _Oh, is that what Mr. Adams is doing here?_ " Joseph asked, still staring at his friend.

" _Yeah, I mean... it's not right, but they're doing..._ "

" _Chris,_ " Sam interrupted the boy, handing him some money, " _will you take this home to your Mom?_ "

The boy walked towards him, took the money and looked quickly at Warren, before fleeing the doctor's gaze.

" _Thanks,_ " he told Sam shyly, before walking away.

He stopped on the threshold, and hurried back towards the bottles of wine, picking up a bottle in each of his hands.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked him, frowning.

"Dr. Franklin asked me if I could bring him some wine," the boy answered. "Sarah and her friends drink our wine too, you know? Though, they can't come and buy it themselves, 'cause they're scared the Red Coats might find us if they do. So, Mr. Franklin buys the wine for them, and then gives it back to them. Sarah says our wine is much better than the Governor's."

Sam nodded slowly, looking down at his knees.

"You're still guiding them then?"

"Yes, I am. Tomorrow, we're going next to the church."

Sam nodded again.

"With whom are you going?"

"With Sarah... and Michael maybe, but that's not sure. I think we'll go just Sarah and I."

Sam nodded slowly one more time.

"Is she alright?"

Warren looked intensely at him, but Sam didn't even feel his piercing glance.

"Yes, sure. She's working hard, as always. But she says she likes it. She says I'm a good guide, and she has agreed to explain to me how her big device works... the one that makes the buzzing noise."

Sam smiled slowly.

"You'll say hello for me then," he said in a low voice.

"Yes, Mr. Adams."

And away the boy went, holding his two bottles of wine.

" _So..._ " Joseph said after a short silence. " _you're running an underground market._ "

Sam shrugged.

" _How are we gonna make some money?_ "

" _Sam, since when do you care about money?_ "

Samuel stood up, and gestured to the men outside to help him carry the cases of wine.

" _It's not about money for this little boy,_ " Warren went on. " _And he is just a boy._ "

Joseph rested his forearms on a case of wine upon one of the tables, leaning towards Sam, who was carrying wine outside the room, before getting back inside.

" _Sam, he doesn't know that any of this is illegal._ "

" _What is?_ " replied Sam, bending down to pick up a barrel. " _Putting food on the table? If it is, maybe it shouldn't be._ "

Joseph sighed, and Sam carried the barrel outside, before entering the room again. He looked at Warren for a while, a smile slowly forming on his lips.

" _You'll help us with these? Or you're just gonna stand there?_ "

He picked up one more case of wine, and Warren took off his jacket and carried the case he had been resting upon, shaking his head, but smiling nonetheless.

* * *

Sarah smiled happily at Christopher, who was waiting patiently in front of the scientists' house.

"Good morning Chris!" she greeted him happily. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine, Sarah. What about you?"

"I'm fine, ready for a trip in town!"

"Someone is coming with us?" the boy asked her.

She shook her head.

"No, they're all pretty busy in there. It's just the two of us today."

Chris nodded, and they both headed towards the church.

"Mr. Adams asked me to say hello for him, by the way," the boy told Sarah.

"Oh..." Sarah answered slowly. "Well, you'll say hello for me too when you see him then."

Christopher frowned as he was noticing Sarah's cheeks reddening slightly.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Sure," she answered nonchalantly. "But it's hot today, isn't it?"

Chris nodded slowly, though he was wondering what was going on, as the fresh wind coming from the sea was making the air quite chilly actually...

* * *

Sam laughed softly at Kelly's comment, walking casually throughout the streets. They were just coming back from a shop in the neighborhood where they had delivered some wine, and were now merely walking absentmindedly throughout the town. Without them noticing, their feet had slowly guided them towards the church. Sam suddenly froze, as the sound of the happy laugh was ringing in his ears. He turned around, ignoring Kelly's interrogative look, and spotted easily Christopher and Sarah right there, sitting before the church, eating their lunch. The boy was laughing as well, throwing his head backwards towards the sky. Without caring about Kelly, Sam strode towards them, though he was slowing down as he was coming nearer and nearer, feeling a strange sensation in his stomach.

"Hi," he merely said, as he was close enough to them.

Sarah and Christopher turned quickly towards him.

"Mr. Adams!" Sarah smiled brightly. "What are you doing here?"

Sam shrugged.

"Business matters."

Sarah nodded slowly, smiling.

"Hello, Mr. Adams," Chris told him.

"Chris," Sam nodded his head.

"Mr. Kelly," Sarah smiled as the Irishman was coming closer.

"Miss Hugo."

"What are you doing?" Sam asked the scientist.

"We are measuring ridiations," Chris answered.

"Radiations," Sarah whispered to the boy.

"Radiations," Chris corrected himself. "We are using the things that do the buzzing noise."

"I see," Sam smiled.

There was a short silence, while Sarah and Sam were merely staring at each other in the eyes.

"Did Mr. Franklin had his... delivery?" Sam asked Clara. "I saw Chris yesterday, he was leaving Paul's workshop."

"Yes, he did," Sarah nodded. "Which means that we did as well," she added, winking mischievously at him.

Sam felt his heart skip a beat...

"Good, I'm glad it went well."

There was another short silence...

"Well, we'd better go. We have quite a lot of things to do," Kelly said, clearing his throat. "Right Sam?"

Sam started, suddenly focusing on Kelly again.

"What?" he asked.

"We have an appointment, remember?" Kelly told him.

"Oh... yeah. You're right, we should go."

He turned towards Sarah again.

"Well... good luck with your... radiations."

"Thank you. Good luck with your... appointment."

They smiled at each other, a new silence slowly wrapping them both, before Sam would finally shake himself.

"Good day, Ms. Hugo."

"Good day, Mr. Adams."

He quickly turned around, and walked away. Next to him, Kelly was smirking.

"What?" Sam asked his friend, frowning slightly.

"Nothing," Kelly answered, "I have merely won a bet."

"A bet? What bet? Against whom?"

"Paul Revere. He and I bet about you and the beautiful scientist over there. And I undoubtedly won."

"I don't understand..."

"You like her."

Sam forced a wry laugh.

"Of course I don't."

"Oh... Yes, you do. You should have seen yourself out there. You looked like the woman had you wrapped around her finger already."

"You're wrong."

"Why are you blushing then?"

"I'm not blushing."

"Yes, Samuel, you are."

Sam let out a little laugh.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Kelly added. "Because that would be a terrible idea to encourage you to be with her."

"It would be, indeed," Sam nodded, looking at his feet, but sounding casual.

"Because, after all... She's supposed to go back home. She does a bit of work here, and then goes back to her world, and never comes back again."

"Indeed..."

"It would be a terrible idea to try to be with her."

"It would be."

"In the end, it would be awful for both of you."

"Awful, yes."

"You would end up drinking even more than when your wife died. And she would live all her life regretting that she couldn't stay, until she finally hates her own time, for keeping you apart."

"Probably."

"And you would be both heartbroken, and this time, you would be inconsolable."

"You're right, Kelly."

"So... It doesn't matter what you could possibly feel for her or not."

"No, it doesn't matter."

"And... it doesn't matter if she likes you too."

Sam suddenly looked up at him, stopping dead in the middle of the street.

"Do you think she likes me?"

* * *

"Ah, Dr. Einbrecher. I'm glad to see you. I hope you have good news."

Yuri nodded slowly, before giving the Governor a little, shiny coin. But Hutchinson couldn't recognize the pattern upon the piece of metal.

"It's their signal," Yuri told the Governor. "That's how they know if you're in it or not."

"Good, very good, thank you doctor."

"You should send a spy, or something, to discover who is selling."

"Of course, I will most certainly do so, don't worry."

"I'll have to take the coin back, though. Or the person from whom I stole it will discover I'm helping you. And I would rather have no problem with anyone here."

Hutchinson stared intensely at Yuri for a moment, before handing him back the coin.

"Of course, I wouldn't like you to be in any kind of trouble."

"So..." Yuri, added cautiously. "What about your authorization for us to keep working downtown?"

"It shall remain perfectly unchanged, and you shall be free to work as you please, anywhere in this town."

"Thank you, Governor."

"Oh... thank you to you, Dr. Einbrecher."

Yuri walked out of the Governor's office, and Hutchinson turned quickly towards his aide, his eyes shining.

"Call for Mr. Whittier, immediately."

* * *

" _As far as I can tell, there's at least twenty shops in the ring._ "

Hutchinson stared at the coin in his hand, glimmering in his palm in the dim light emanating from the hearth. He recognized the pattern in a second, it was undoubtedly the same than the one upon the scientist's coin. Hutchinson nodded slowly, turning towards his aide.

" _Mr. Whittier needs to be compensated for his fine work._ "

The Governor's aide paid the spy, and Whittier walked out of the room, smirking, already imagining how he could spend this newly earned money. The aide turned towards the Governor.

" _What now, Sir?_ " he asked him.

Hutchinson wrapped slowly his fingers around the little piece of metal, before squeezing it tightly in his hand.

" _Let's shut them down._ "


	6. The End Of Innocence

**Here comes a new chapter. Three scenes come from the series here.**

 **Thank you for your review GreTheresa, love ya ;)**

 **Next update next Monday.**

 **Hope you like this chapter, please, tell me what you think about it.**

* * *

 **The End of Innocence**

It started during the night. Right before sunset, when the shadows still cover the streets and the torches still create monsters out of their flames. They seemed to strike from everywhere at the same time. Everyone with a coin was a prey for these red vultures. They stormed into the streets, beating men to the ground, breaking into houses... Soon, no one in Boston was sleeping. Just after dawn, Michael, James, Sarah and Ben Franklin walked out of the square and into the streets. The pale light of the morning was bathing the shreds of shattered glass on the muddy ground. Winter had brought the cold, and Sarah held tightly her coat around her chest, shivering. Soon, they found Joseph Warren, helping a young man who's brow was bleeding.

"You will be just fine," Warren reassured the man. "The wound is not deep. Your head might be spinning for a while, but nothing to worry about. You should just sit here for a moment."

The doctor turned towards the scientists as he was catching sight of them.

"You shouldn't have come here," he told them. "It's not safe."

Sarah stared at the blood on the doctor's hand.

"Nowhere will be safe anymore..." she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She looked around her at the devastated shops.

"Where are Mr. Adams and Mr. Revere?" she asked slowly.

Warren shrugged.

"No idea. But they'll be alright, I'm sure. They know how to cover their tracks."

Michael leaned closer to Sarah and whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry, they're not supposed to get caught..."

"How can you know everything is happening how it should happen?" Sarah replied in a louder voice.

Michael frowned.

"Why wouldn't it happen how it is supposed to happen? We're not responsible for this. It all happened without us."

"How do you know?" Sarah asked him again, her voice deadly cold. "Do you know what Yuri has in mind?"

"Oh, come on. He wouldn't do this."

"Why not? He did it once, remember?"

But Michael shook his head.

"This is supposed to happen now. Well... I have no idea if it's supposed to happen today," he admitted, "but it is supposed to happen around this period. It's normal."

Sarah sighed angrily. Something was wrong. How could Hutchinson know about the coins, except if someone who knew about them had told him... and who would know better than someone from the future?

"He probably just sent spies everywhere throughout the town," James told her, reading in her mind. "It was only a matter of time before they would be discovered anyway."

"I don't know James," Sarah answered in a calmer voice. "I have a bad feeling about this..."

Right at this moment, Sam appeared in the street, and he walked quickly towards them.

"You shouldn't be here," he told the scientists as well. "It's dangerous."

"How many shops have already been closed?" Franklin asked him, ignoring his remark.

"Almost all of them," Sam answered gloomily.

"Mr. Revere?" Sarah asked him.

"He's fine," Sam answered. "They came in the workshop, but there was nothing there to be found."

"And Christopher?"

"He's fine too, he's with his mother."

Sarah sighed in relief. A group of Red Coats stormed into the street, dragging a man by the arms, forcing him to follow them. Sam clenched his fists, but Sarah put a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"There's nothing you can do, except being arrested yourself. And you won't be more able to help him if you're in jail with him than if you're a free man."

He stared at her, her blue eyes fixed on the soldiers, an expression full of pain on her graceful face. Slowly, Sam relaxed. She finally let go of his shoulder as the Red Coats disappeared in another street.

"I have to talk with Yuri," she said.

And she hurried out of the street, striding quickly towards the square, Michael and James on her heels.

Sam frowned, before turning towards Franklin.

"Does she think the German has something to do with all this?"

But Ben Franklin merely shrugged.

"I don't recall that anyone is able to know what happens in the head of this woman anyway," the elder man answered. "But she seems to have our doubts about him. Michael and James didn't seem convinced of his guilt this time, though."

Sam clenched his fists. So, the scientist was responsible for all this mess...

A carriage stopped at the corner of the street, and Sam's dark eyes met Hancock's glance. Sam quickly nodded to him, gesturing quickly to the merchant to meet him later. They desperately needed to talk...

Franklin, noticing their signal, looked intensely at Adams.

"I will try to learn more about Dr. Einbrecher's implication in all this," he told Sam. "Is there any way I can have a talk with you and your... associate later today?"

The two men stared at each other in the eyes for a while, Sam weighing Franklin's proposal. But for some reason, he trusted the man. Since he had arrived in Boston, he had always seemed to defend the people living there, and not the interests of a King in London. He seemed to be trustworthy enough. And anyway, Sam was pretty sure he already knew everything, or at the very least that Hancock was in it too.

"Come to the Green Dragon tonight," Sam answered, nodding slowly. "I'll take you there myself. Make sure you're not followed."

Franklin nodded, before walking away. Now, he just had to wait for Sarah to establish if Yuri Einbrecher was really the one to blame here.

* * *

She stormed into the room. Yuri had expected her to come, he wasn't startled when she slammed the door behind her. He didn't even look up at her, and merely kept watching the signals on his screen.

"What may I do for you today, Sarah?" he asked her casually.

"Is it you again?" she asked bluntly.

"Is it me what?"

"Don't talk to me as if I was an idiot," she snapped, her voice raising. "Did you tell Hutchinson about the underground market again?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the dozens of men who are being arrested right now, the shops closed and destroyed, the Red Coats storming into houses..."

"The _Red Coats_? Really? You're even starting to talk like them."

"We are living in a complicated period of History, Yuri," Sarah went on angrily, ignoring his remark. "We're not supposed to influence anyone here, and you know it. And yet, you gave Hutchinson some information against the Sons of Liberty. _Twice_!"

Yuri finally looked up at her, his expression completely relaxed.

"I have already told you, I don't know what you are talking about."

She shook her head.

"So it was you then."

"I've told you I didn't know what you were talking about."

"I can't believe you did it again..."

"You're accusing me of something, I'm not even sure of what."

"You've set in motions things you don't understand..."

"What have I set in motion? We still have years before things are too bad for us to stay."

"You're so selfish!"

"Why? Because I'm ready to do what is necessary to make science progress? Can you imagine all the possibilities, if we can understand the wormhole well enough? We could go back in time, and stop wars before they even happen, we could save billions of lives... And you say I'm selfish? You would rather be the selfish one, caring about a few thugs, when you could have the possibility to save billions of innocent people."

"We both know you're not doing all this out of charity. You're only interested with the fame that goes with it."

"I thought you would understand, as I scientist..."

"I may be a scientist, but there are some things that are more precious than knowledge in this world, Yuri. Life is one of them."

"I didn't say anything about Adams and Revere. So why are you so mad at me? History will not remember the others anyway. It was only a matter of time before they were all caught, and you know it. I haven't changed anything."

"Hutchinson shouldn't have learned it from us..."

"It's too late now, what is done is done."

Sara shook her head again, loathing painted all over her face.

"I can't believe you did this..."

She walked out of the room, hurrying downstairs. Yuri remained motionless for a while, staring at the void in front of him where only a few seconds before Sarah had stood, her expression of disgust still vivid before his eyes. And God knew he hated it when she looked at him like that...

* * *

They were sitting before the hearth, staring blankly at the dancing flames. Sam was rocking softly his chair, whilst Hancock and Franklin were motionless, all three of them lost in thoughts.

" _It's a disaster... A travesty..._ " Hancock finally spoke, still barely believing all of this was real.

He looked at Sam, speaking in a low and slow voice.

" _They'll be coming for us next._ "

" _You knew what you were getting yourself into,_ " Sam replied. " _You came to me, you remember?_ "

Sam drank up a gulp of beer, and Hancock sighed softly, looking at the flames again.

" _At least I know Hutchinson has a price,_ " the merchant said softly. " _Although this time it will be very, very expensive._ "

" _Yes, it will,_ " Sam said.

There was a heavy silence for a while, the three men sitting still before the fire. Only the shadows were moving in the room, dancing at the rhythm of the cracking flames.

"Have you learnt anything from Ms. Hugo?" Sam asked Franklin without looking at him, drinking one more gulp of beer.

"Yes, I have," Franklin nodded slowly, a sad expression on his face. "I'm afraid Sarah is persuaded that Dr. Einbrecher is the one who talked to the Governor in the first place."

Sam winced, sighing angrily.

"I knew this whole thing was a bad idea..." he mumbled under his breath.

"Don't blame innocents in your wrath against the guilty ones," Franklin told him. "They're not all our enemies."

"But they are responsible for this."

"If Sarah, Michael and James had not been there, you would have been caught more than once already."

Sam looked down at his knees.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Angry. Betrayed. Sad. But angry more than anything else I reckon," Franklin answered. "And by the look she gave me when she told me about Yuri, I wouldn't like her being angry against me."

Sam's lips curved slowly into a small smile. It sounded quite like her indeed...

"Is there any risks for them?" asked Hancock. "They had coins as well after all. _You_ have a coin yourself..."

"Don't worry," Franklin shook his head, pushing away the merchant's remark by a vague gesture of the hand. "I've hidden it well, no one will know for me. And even if someone learned for Sarah and her friends, I don't think Hutchinson would try to make a move against them. Not when Yuri gives him precious information, he would not take the risk to lose his help."

There was a new silence. Sam clenched his jaws slowly, his stare upon the flames becoming an angry glare.

" _He shut down every shop that isn't owned by a Loyalist..._ " he said through gritted teeth.

"Do you really think he cares that people who are willing to loosen the King's grip around our necks are starving?" Franklin replied coldly.

" _Oh, maybe the whole thing will just blow over,_ " said Hancock, trying to calm the two gentlemen down. " _Hutchinson will calm down, forget about us, we should just... get the market up and running again._ "

" _No, no we need something..."_ Sam said slowly, his gaze lost in the golden lights, thinking hard.

He sighed softly, almost as if he was letting out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, and narrowed slightly his dark eyes, before speaking slowly again.

"... _Else._ "

Hancock frowned.

" _Something like what?_ "

" _Like..._ " Sam answered, nodding slowly as the idea was forming in his head, becoming clearer and clearer every second. " _A boycott._ "

" _A boycott?_ "

Sam nodded again.

" _Yes, of all Tory shops loyal to the King._ "

Hancock stared at him, completely lost.

" _Why?_ "

" _So that people won't buy from them, so..._ " Sam explained him quickly. " _So they'll know to buy only from us._ "

" _Yes, but nobody knows it's us,_ " Hancock protested.

"I'm afraid Mr. Hancock has a point..." said Ben Franklin.

" _I think the whole thing will just blow over,"_ Hancock said again _._ " _And then we get the market up and running again, that is the most important thing. Yes..._ "

He stood up quickly, knocking on the table as he was taking his decision.

" _Man, in the meantime, Sam, just... don't do anything. Good evening._ "

And the businessman strode out of the room.

Sam was still motionless, lost in thoughts. Franklin rose slowly from his seat as well, and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, forcing the younger man to look up at him.

"We should be careful with all this," he said slowly. "Mr. Hancock is right, no one knows who to buy from..."

He tightened his grip on Sam's shoulder, and a glint of mischief suddenly appeared in his eyes.

"I wonder what we could do to let the people of Boston know..."

His lips curved into a small smile, and he strode out of the room as well, leaving Sam staring at the flames again, thinking hard.

* * *

The snow had covered the ground, a white blanket shushing the world, marking the footsteps of everyone who passed. Sam looked around him. There was no one around, except his own men. Kelly nodded to him quickly. They were safe. They merely had to remain silent enough to avoid waking up anyone. Sam plunged the brush into the white paint, before tracing a T upon the window of the Tory shop. He looked at the letter for a moment, before advancing towards the next shop. Now, people would know where they should buy their goods, or more precisely, where they should not buy them...

* * *

She stared at the white T painted upon the window. It was the fourth shop she was seeing with this mark. Ben Franklin stared at the shop as well, sighing softly.

"It would seem that Mr. Adams is making a move..."

"He's starting a boycott, isn't he?" Sarah said slowly.

"It was supposed to happen?"

Sarah nodded slowly.

"We don't have much time now, before everything becomes complicated," she said.

"Because it was simple before?" asked Franklin in a sigh, propping up an eyebrow.

She gave him a sad smile, finally detaching her eyes from the shop, and setting her blue glance upon the elder man.

"It could have been worse."

"I don't dare imagine..."

He gave her a sad smile as well. James and Michael joined them.

"We're done here, we can go back to the house."

Sarah nodded slowly.

"We'd better go, you're right."

"We'll be just fine Sarah, don't worry," James reassured her.

"It's not us I'm worried about."

She looked at the crowd around her.

"I'm afraid it won't get any better from now on..."

* * *

Hancock strode inside the Green Dragon. He spotted quickly Sam, eating, leaning against a table, chatting merrily with his friends. Ben Franklin was laughing merrily as well. As Hancock was walking quickly towards him, everyone around felt silent. He stopped next to Sam's table.

" _Gentlemen, please,_ " he asked to the men around the table, his voice deadly cold.

They left him alone with Sam, who was still eating some bread.

"You can stay, Dr. Franklin," Hancock told him as the elder man was standing up.

"I think you need to have this discussion alone, gentlemen," Franklin replied.

"Was it your idea?" the businessman asked bluntly to Franklin.

"No, it wasn't. But I would have liked it to be."

Sam smiled at him, and nodded to him as Ben Franklin was walking behind him, patting his shoulder as he was passing by, and walked out of the inn.

Sam saw Hancock's Adam's apple pulsing. The merchant leaned over the table, getting closer to Sam, staring intensely at him.

" _What are you doing?_ " he asked him, his voice trembling with anger, almost whispering. " _We are getting away with this, are you trying to get caught?_ "

" _I'm doing what we set out to do,_ " Sam answered calmly.

" _No you're not._ "

They remained silent for a second, merely holding each other stare.

" _You want to keep making money, don't you? You want to keep..."_ said Sam, his voice angry now, throwing his bread upon the table. "... _living this privilege life of yours._ "

" _Yes, of course I do. But this is business, let's not go make it political._ "

" _You try so hard..._ " Sam told him, shaking slowly his head, his eyes almost pitying the rich man in front of him, stressing every word with a gesture of the knife he was holding tightly. " _But it doesn't matter how many parties you throw, it doesn't matter how rich you are, you'll_ never _be British._ "

" _You have so much integrity, don't you?_ " Hancock answered angrily as well, in a bitter tone. " _But without me, and my_ money, _you would be rotting in a jail right now!_ "

" _At least, I know which side I'm on._ "

" _Why does there have to be sides?_ " asked desperately Hancock.

Sam stared at him in the eyes, silent, for a moment, before answering in a calm voice.

" _Because there are._ "

" _You are playing a very dangerous game,_ " Hancock told him after a moment, trying to reason him. " _You are heading down a road that you will not be able to come back from._ "

" _Maybe it isn't a game._ "

" _Then it is even worse._ _You have to stop this, Sam. And you need to stop this now._ "

Sam shook his head, and walked away. Hancock didn't understand, how could he...?

The merchant walked towards Kelly, who was reading a book at a table nearby. He sat down, and when he spoke, his voice was urgent.

" _As his friend, can I urge you to make him see reason?_ "

Kelly closed slowly his book.

" _I wonder..._ " the Irishman answered slowly. " _Would you believe to look at me, Mr. Hancock... I was a man of property once. My family, my... my wife, and our girl, Edina... seven years of age and wild as wind. We had a farm, almost ten hectares, but we had hard times and... there we are..._ "

He stared at Hancock, continuing his calm and slow speech.

" _Sam's father had an idea. He started a bank for the colonists. No one had ever tried a thing like that before. He dig into his own pockets, and he gave us loans because... we had lands. And land_ should _mean something, right? Well... Hutchinson and his cronies didn't like this one a bit. The colonists making their own way, well how dare they_ "

His voice was shaking with anger now, his jaws set, still looking at Hutchinson.

" _So they rolled in and spat about some leader shite about the King's will and they shut the whole thing down._ _And Sam senior he... lost everything. And it drove him into his early grave._ "

Hancock set his jaws, his eyes sad, as Kelly let his words sink in. When he spoke again, his voice was softer once more, and if it was trembling, it was from sadness now.

" _And his boy... just stood there and watched the whole thing, Sam... there's nothing he could have done. He's a good man, just as his father was. Always trying to help people, wherever he could. And he shielded my family from things and people in this world when I could not. He gave us money, yes, he gave us jobs. But more than anything, he gave us an opportunity. Just like you did, Mr. Hancock. And I don't even think that you realize that._ "

Kelly let his words sink in for a moment, before taking a deep breath, staring at Hancock in the eyes.

" _You see, here is the thing about Sam..._ " he went on. _" He never keeps a penny for himself._ "

He stood up, leaving Hancock sitting there, at the wooden table, staring into the void, lost in thoughts.

There was no turning back now...

* * *

 _Downtown Boston_

 _February 22, 1770_

"Sarah, we can't get out!"

"I have to see what's going on."

"You're the one who keeps saying that we must not intervene."

"I have to see."

Sarah grabbed her coat, ignoring her colleagues calling for her behind her. She could hear the echoes of the mob from here.

 _Tory! Tory! Tory!_

She opened the front door, and the frozen wind cut savagely her cheeks. Above her head, the stars were shining shyly, their silver light veiled. Ben Franklin walked out of his own house as the scientist was closing the door. They merely nodded to each other. James and Michael ran after them as they were hurrying through the square.

 _Tory! Tory! Tory!_

They walked through the streets covered by a thin layer of snow, guided by the cries that echoed throughout town.

 _Tory! Tory! Tory!_

Soon, they found the angry mob, throwing stones upon a merchant's house. At the light of the torches alit in the street, and the candles in the bedroom of the house, Sarah could distinguish that the attacked man was holding tightly a firearm in his hands...

"You shouldn't be here."

Sarah started at the sound of the low voice behind her, and turned quickly around to face Samuel Adams.

"Are you responsible for this?" she asked.

She wasn't angry, nor accusing him of anything, she was merely asking a question.

"No, I've just arrived. But I knew something was brewing tonight."

Sarah nodded.

"You shouldn't be here," Sam told her again.

"I had to come."

"Why?"

"I... I don't know but..."

She turned towards the mob again.

"I have a bad feeling about all this."

Sam looked up at the mob as well.

" _Get away, all of you!_ " the merchant cried from his window, as stones were shattering the glass. " _Leave us alone!_ "

Through the angry crowd, Sam spotted Kelly and Christopher, both of them on the front line. Amos was there as well, right behind them.

Stones were flying, landing into the window of the bedroom, shouts piercing the night. But then...

A detonation echoed throughout the night, a flash of light escaping from the firearm as the merchant was firing blindly into the crowd.

There was a moment of silence, everyone remaining motionless. Slowly, the men took a few steps back from the lying shape upon the ground. Sarah's heart stopped as she was recognizing the little body on the cold stones of the pavement...

Sam ran towards him, pushing away the men, creating a passage through the motionless crowd.

" _Someone gets Dr. Warren, now!_ " Sam cried.

He kneeled down, immediately followed by Sarah.

"Chris," Sarah called softly the little boy.

The boy choked, struggling to breathe as blood was escaping his lips, his little hand holding his stomach, blood flowing out of the dark little hole under his hand. Sarah pressed both her hands upon the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, and the boy held tightly her fingers. Under her palms, she could feel the rhythm of his little heartbeat.

 _Ta-boom. Ta-boom. Ta-boom..._

Sam took him in his arms, carrying him off the ground delicately, whilst the scientist was still pressing her hands against the boy's chest.

 _...Ta-boom. Ta-boom. Ta-boom..._

"It will be alright Chris," Sarah reassured him, though her voice was shaking uncontrollably. "Stay with us."

He looked at her, his brown eyes terrified.

 _...Ta-boom. Ta-boom. Ta-boom..._

"It's alright Christopher..."

 _...Ta-boom. Ta-boom..._

"Just stay with us. We'll take you to Dr. Warren..."

 _...Ta-boom..._

" Dr. Warren will help you. We'll get you there. Don't worry..."

 _...Ta-boom..._

"Don't be afraid..."

 _...Ta...boom..._

"You don't have to be afraid..."

 _...Ta... ... boom..._

"We're here, we're with you..."

 _...Ta..._

 _...boom._

The boy seemed to sigh, and his dark eyes left Sarah's blue glance and rolled, and his little fingers let go of Sarah's hand, slipped upon her hand, and fell into the void. And under her palm, there was no rhythm anymore.

Sam froze. They had walked only a few meters...

Warren arrived, running, and he froze as well as he was looking at Christopher's body in Sam's arms. He winced hard, tears already drowning his eyes.

Sam and he exchanged a desperate glance. Sarah was staring at the little drops of blood that were falling upon the cold ground, their rhythm like an echo of his vanished heartbeat.

 _Plock. Plock. Plock..._

Slowly, Michael took Sarah's arms, and pulled her hands away from the boy's chest.

 _... Plock. Plock. Plock..._

Joseph took Chris from Sam's arms, crying by now, before walking away, the little hand swaying into the void.

... _Plock. Plock. Plock..._

Sam released his breath, suddenly out of breath. He turned towards Sarah, who was freeing herself from Michael's grip.

"Sarah, wait!" Michael called after her, as she was running in a dark street.

He didn't know he was running after her until his hands had closed upon her shoulders. She turned around, struggling against his touch, her face wet with tears. But when she looked at Sam, and recognized his face, she froze. And slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, and held her close against his chest. She held on his coat for dear life, and he soon found himself half-carrying her. He caressed tenderly her hair, shushing her in a whisper.

"Calm down," he whispered against her hair, as she was sobbing hard against his shoulder. "Calm down..."

His voice, hoarse with tears, sounded like the most reassuring sound in the world. She could feel his warmth flowing across her whole body, his hand cradling her head, soothing her.

"Sam..." she whispered, shaking against him.

He felt his heart skipping a beat at the way she was pronouncing his name.

"Calm down... Sarah..."

And they remained there, standing, crying, shaking, holding each other tightly, two shapes darker than night lost in the shadows, for a long time.

* * *

Four men were carrying the coffin throughout the streets, and many were following, their footsteps shushed by the snow. Warren and Kelly were walking, holding candles. In the crowd that was watching them pass before them, everyone was wearing dark clothes. As he was catching sight of her down the street, Sam walked towards Sarah.

"How are you?" he asked her softly.

"I'll be okay, in a while..." she answered, her voice barely more than a whisper. "How are you?"

"Fine."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Can I do anything for you?" he asked her.

She smiled, strangely moved.

"Thank you, but I'll be just fine."

Sam nodded slowly, turning towards the walking crowd again. The coffin had almost reached them by now. But as the silent crowd was passing by, the Governor got out of his house, and started to follow them, wrapped in his dark long coat. Sam clenched his jaws, and before anyone could react, he was striding to the Governor, forcing him to stop, coming only a few inches from his face, his chin high. Behind Sam, Paul Revere was looking at the scene, ready to help his angry friend.

" _How dare_ _you show your face today?_ " Sam asked Hutchinson through gritted teeth.

" _I merely wish to pay my respect and tell the family how sad I am for their loss,_ " the Governor answered calmly.

" _Well, you already threw the father in prison. And now, you snuck away the man who killed that child..._ "

" _London is the only place where he can get a fair trial,_ " Hutchinson interrupted Sam.

" _You know that's bullshit,_ " Revere replied.

The Governor looked at the two men in front of him, before answering in a lower voice.

" _The boy's blood stains your hands far more than mine, Mr. Adams._.."

Sam clenched his fists and jaws even tighter.

" _You know, I could have you all arrested,_ " added the Governor, as he was walking back towards his house. " _Perhaps I should..._ "

Sam was torn away from his thoughts as he was hearing Sarah sniffing. Hancock offered her a handkerchief, whilst Ben Franklin was patting reassuringly her shoulder. She stared as the coffin was disappearing in the street, towards the docks, and long after the ceremony was over, and everyone had gone home, and James and Michael had comforted her before finally falling asleep, the words on the coffin of this little boy remained vivid before her eyes.

 _The serpent lurks in the grass._

 _The fatal dart is thrown._

 _Innocence is nowhere safe._


	7. The Incident On King Street

**Alright, alright... Here comes a new chapter.**

 **Thank you for the review on the previous chapter GreTheresa, you're the best.**

 **Two scenes come from the series here. I can't believe I've already finished to work on the first episode...**

 **I've included a few historical details in this chapter, though of course everything is not accurate as I've followed the series, and tried to include these historical references in a logical way in my story.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Hope you like this new chapter. Please, tell me what you think about it :)**

* * *

 **The Incident on King Street**

"I didn't remember..."

Her voice was merely a weak whisper, that remained suspended in mid-air for a while, the pain that was making it tremble too heavy to let the little sound fly up to the heavens. The words remained there, still in sight, still in earshot, echoing against the silence wrapped around her, like the ghost of a truth too harmful to bear, but too horrible to be ignored and forgotten.

She hadn't remembered. All these years during which she had lived here, in this century, she had never thought, not once, that Christopher was indeed this little boy who's death would ignite the embers of insurrection in Boston. She remembered now having read something about it somewhere, but the name had faded in her memory as quickly as her eyes had flown above the letters upon the page.

But now that she was reading the story again, seen through the eyes of a historian and not her own, in this book she had asked her colleagues from the future to send her two days before, in this book written more than two hundred years after this moment, she remembered perfectly having read the same lines a few years before.

Christopher Seider...

A single tear rolled down her cheek and crashed upon the page in a loud ' _Plock'_. If only she had remembered...

But then, if she had remembered, what could she have done? Save him? And risk to destroy the future ?

She heaved a deep sigh, a violent headache piercing her skull, as a voice was rising in her head. A voice she soon found herself silently arguing with, a voice that sounded just like her own.

"What would you have done, Sarah? We both know there was nothing you could have done to save him," the voice said. "He was supposed to die. It's written right here, right before your eyes."

"He was just a boy..." Sarah replied desperately, her mouth shut, her words echoing in her mind, though not a single sound passed her lips.

"There will be a war, many more children will die then. It's the very principle of war, killing people who have never done anything wrong."

"It's unfair."

"Life itself is unfair."

"He didn't deserve to die like this, he was so kind..."

"Innocence is nowhere safe."

"I should have remembered, if only I had remembered..."

"Would you have saved him, and condemned the rest of them to remain under the dominion of the British?"

Sarah closed her eyes, but the voice continued its fatal speech in her head.

"We both know you can't act like this, saving whoever may be a danger. Many will die before all of this is over, and you must let them depart the way they are supposed to go."

"I could have made sure I wouldn't befriend him. I could have protected myself..."

"You haven't done it with Joseph Warren either, and we both know what is going to happen to him in a few years..."

"It's different. Warren will die long after we've gone home. For Chris, I was there, I held him in my arms, I had his blood on my hands..."

Another tear fell on the dark writings, wetting the white paper.

"Would it have changed something really? If you wouldn't have moved to save him anyway?"

Sarah clenched her jaws, and this time she couldn't manage to keep her lips sealed.

"Je n'aurais pas eu à souffrir autant..." she whispered, too desperate to speak in English.

Pablo entered the room just then, and stared at her, stunned by the look of pain on her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in his heavy Spanish accent.

Sarah started, startled by Pablo's voice, so low after the sound in her head. She merely nodded, and guessing that she wanted to be alone, Pablo left the room.

In her head, the voice echoed again, resonating in her skull, pulsing in her temples.

"You would have saved yourself some pain? Perhaps, but what is done is done, you'll have to live with this sorrow from now on."

A third tear shattered against the paper in her hands.

"Now, we have more important things to discuss, Sarah. Look at the date."

Sarah looked up, reading the date on the screen before her. It was the fourth of March.

"You know what is going to happen tomorrow, of this you remember, you have always remembered," the voice said urgently. "Now, what shall you do? You know their names as well, the names of these men who will die tomorrow night, they are written right there, on the next page. You merely need to turn this page, one quick gesture of the hand..."

Sarah turned the page, and read the five names slowly, the letters engraving themselves upon her eyes, and long after she had stopped looking down at the book, she could still see the names floating in the air, purchasing her everywhere.

 _Crispus Attucks_

 _Samuel Gray_

 _James Caldwell_

 _Samuel Maverick_

 _Patrick Carr_

She knew most of them. She wasn't as close to any of them as she had been to Christopher, but still, she _knew_ most of them. She had bought ropes to Samuel Gray, and seen James Caldwell once or twice, she had seen the leather work that Patrick Carr made, and even had bought a few items he had created. She had come across Crispus Attucks on the docks several times, he had helped her carry some of her equipment once or twice... And the next day, they were going to die, or be deadly wounded.

"So... shall you let them die Sarah?"

She closed her eyes again, holding her book so tightly in her hands that her knuckles were as white as the snow that was falling outside, drifting before the window covered with frost.

What could she do?

* * *

Ben Franklin entered the inn. It was still early in the afternoon, and there was almost no one inside, only Kelly, Joseph Warren, Paul Revere and Sam Adams. They all nodded to him as Franklin was taking a seat next to them.

"Do you want something to drink or eat, Dr. Franklin?" Kelly asked him.

"A beer would be more than welcome, thank you," Franklin answered.

The next second, he had a pint before him.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Franklin?" Revere asked him.

But Franklin shrugged, sadness drowning his gaze.

"Not much I'm afraid. I don't even really know why I came here at all."

"How is Sarah?" Sam suddenly asked him, looking up at the elder man, his glance piercing through him to his soul.

Franklin shook his head, heaving a deep sigh.

"She's not fine at all, I'm afraid. And no one seems able to make her feel better... Pablo found her crying again this morning."

"She really was close to Chris," Warren nodded.

"No, it's not only that," Franklin answered slowly, shaking his head again. "I think... I think she feels guilty for it somehow..."

Sam frowned.

"It wasn't her fault, and her colleagues had nothing to do with all this..."

"I know, Mr. Adams, I know," Franklin shrugged. "But still, she looks like she's feeling guilty."

Kelly suddenly narrowed his eyes.

"Or maybe she is responsible."

They all looked at him, frowning.

"What are you talking about?" Warren asked him, aghast.

"Think about it for a minute," Kelly explained. "They're from the future, right? Then, everything that is happening here, now, it already happened for them. They already know what is going to happen. And if something happens that they didn't know anything about, then it means that their presence here has changed everything. In both cases, they're responsible for what happened to the boy."

There was a moment of silence.

"That's not completely illogical," Paul had to admit. "Though, I don't think you can say that they are responsible if they didn't actually get involved in the whole thing."

"If she had known, she would have told us," Sam replied through gritted teeth, his tone almost angry. "If she had known what would have happened, she would have told Chris to stay away from the mob that night, and he would have listened to her."

"Mr. Adams is right," Franklin nodded. "I've seen the look on her face, she's devastated by the boy's death, she's in shock... She didn't know it would happen."

"Maybe she didn't know for _his_ death, but what can assure us that she will not let someone else die, when she can save him?" Kelly replied. "They keep saying they must not change the future, and have to protect the timeline or whatever they may call it... What make you all think that they would not rather let us all die than risk their own future."

Sam clenched his jaws, but didn't say anything. Kelly's eyes smoothened, and he heaved a deep sigh.

"Look, she's kind, and her friends are good lads as well," he told Sam more kindly. "But it doesn't mean she's on our side. And you have to accept the fact that if they have to choose between us and their own time, they will always do what is best for their homes, and not ours."

Sam looked down at the wooden table, before shrugging.

"It doesn't matter anyway, she didn't know about Chris."

"You mean _they_ , right?" Paul asked.

Sam looked up at him, staring at his eyes.

"Yes, of course," Sam mumbled.

But it was too late to deny what was so obvious now. And Paul shook his head, heaving a sigh. And here came one more trouble...

* * *

 _Boston_

 _March 5, 1770_

The sun rose slowly. The burning light was bathing the thin layer of snow with flames outside, and the roofs were glimmering with gold and red, under the pale and shivering sky. It was a beautiful day, with a mixture of pale shades lingering on from winter, and bright colours from the coming spring, that would soon make the snow and the frost melt, and the flowers blossom in the trees. It was a beautiful day, with a clear sky, and not a cloud in the horizon, and a huge sun rising above the city, bringing life to every street through the town, like blood brings life through pulsing veins. But in the room where the six scientists were sitting, no one talked, and no one was feeling merry, even before this promise of a good day. Because they all knew that this day would not remain good for long...

It was the fifth of March. And from now on, nothing was going to be the same.

Michael heaved a deep sigh.

"What shall we do ?" he asked, speaking aloud the question they were all asking silently to themselves.

"Nothing," Sarah merely answered, her voice a bit hoarse, but calm, and determined.

James closed his eyes.

"We could save them," he said.

"We can't," Sarah replied. "They're supposed to die today, or because of the events of today, and we cannot change that."

"Still, it means that we're letting five people die," Yoko protested.

"We can't change history," Sarah replied. "And these five men dying in the Boston Massacre, it is history."

There was a deafening silence for a while. Michael stared at Sarah, who was looking at the square coming to life outside, her expression neutral. But he knew her enough to read sorrow in her deep blue eyes.

"We should protect Ben Franklin," he said slowly. "He's not supposed to be here, he must not get hurt."

Sarah nodded.

"But no one must know, not even Franklin. No one gets out of the house today. We must not get in their way, not today. The risk is too great..."

Yuri stood up, and walked towards her. He stopped right behind her chair, and put a soothing hand on her shoulder. But she shivered, a disgusted feeling running through her entire body as his fingers were touching her shoulder, and she shrugged him away. He clenched his jaws, struggling to swallow the lump that crept up his throat. But when he spoke again, his tone was neutral.

"I'll go look for Franklin, he'll stay with us today."

She nodded, not looking at Yuri as he was exiting the room. She heard the door closing behind him, though her glance was still set upon the square on the other side of the frozen glass. The bells rang, cutting the cold atmosphere like a sharp knife. Her lips trembled, and she found herself out of breath for a moment. And as the bells kept ringing the new hour, a single tear rolled down her cheek and fell on her hand with the last sound of the ringing bells in the morning air.

* * *

Even from there, they could hear the whispers of what was brewing out there. Apparently, it came from the Customs House. A young lad had apparently insulted a soldier, Sam had no idea why, who had answered by hitting him on the head. And what had been a few minutes before as merely an argument between a colonist and a soldier on sentry duty was now a raging mob shouting at a bunch of Red Coats. At least, that's what had reported a few young lads, as they were passing by before going there themselves. But Sam couldn't really care. Staring at the fire before him, holding tightly his pint of beer in his hands, making his knuckles turn white, he was reliving what had happened not two weeks before all over again. The image of Chris's chest covered with blood was always before his eyes, wherever he went; the feeling of Sarah's shaking body against his always present in his arms... And there had been no justice, of any form, for what had happened. Every time he was thinking about it, and he almost always thought about these dreadful events these days, his blood boiled in his veins, anger burning through his body at how unfair the whole thing was. And Sam couldn't forgive and forget, he just couldn't...

He heard someone walking closer to him, and felt a soothing pat on his shoulder. He didn't need to look up to know that the man who was taking a chair and sitting down next to him by the fire was his cousin. Sam merely kept staring at the flames, his lips remaining sealed after he had drunk some beer.

" _Sam..._ " John Adams said slowly.

John looked at his cousin, the flames glowing in his dark eyes, wet with tears. His jaw was clenched, and he could read only sorrow and anger on his face.

" _There's raiding in the square Sam,_ " John said slowly, in a low and soft tone.

" _He was just a boy, John,_ " Sam answered, struggling to keep his low voice steady, still staring at the hearth.

" _Yes..._ "

John took a deep breath, before pursuing, his voice a bit shaky.

" _And there's nothing that you can do that will bring him back now._ "

Sam shook slowly his head, frowning slightly to the dancing blazes.

" _How is this not affecting you?_ " he asked him through gritted teeth, before turning towards John, tears drowning his dark glance. " _Why are not that angry...?"_

" _Please!_ " John interrupted him, his voice shaking with anger and pain. " _This has gone too far, it has to end now!_ "

They stared at each other for a moment, Sam's gaze getting more and more determined every second.

" _This is just the beginning,_ " he told his cousin, his low voice sounding like a promise.

Sam finished his drink and stood up, striding towards the door, his expression dark and determined, his glance suddenly merciless. As he was walking through the inn, everyone turned slowly towards him, and they all looked at Sam as he was opening the door and going outside. The cold wind cut his cheeks, snowflakes crashing upon his face and wetting his skin, but he didn't care. He walked through the night, guided throughout the dark streets by the clamor that echoed in the trembling shadows, getting louder and louder at every step. Before he could reach the Customs House, Paul Revere and Joseph Warren were by his sides, and they hurried towards the angry people of Boston, their footsteps pursuing them in the snow.

* * *

"What do you mean 'I can't get outside'?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Franklin, but we can't let you get out of this house, you'll stay with us tonight."

"Why?"

Michael heaved a deep sigh, struggling to find an answer. But Sarah didn't see why they should lie, as the gentleman would not get out of this room before it was all over anyway.

"You can't get out, Mr. Franklin, because what will happen in Boston tonight is not supposed to happen with you taking part in it," she answered calmly.

She drank up a gulp of wine, staring at the snowflakes falling on the windowpane.

"I don't understand..." Franklin admitted.

"Something important will happen tonight, and we can't take the risk that anything changes."

Franklin clenched his jaw, before sitting down next to the scientist, who merely drank more wine, still staring at the falling snowflakes.

"You know what is happening in Boston tonight? What is happening right now, out there?" Franklin asked her.

In the moment of silence that followed, the clamor coming from the nearby mob seemed even louder than before, as if these men were agreeing with Ben Franklin.

"Yes, we do," Sarah answered, her voice still calm and neutral.

"And what is going to happen tonight?"

She looked at him, her blue glance piercing him to his very soul.

"The Boston Massacre."

* * *

Sam pushed away the men before him, getting closer to the front line, rage twisting his handsome face and making him frown, as he was trying to figure out what exactly was going on. He stopped near the first rank of the angry civilians, studying for a moment the situation with Revere and Warren. Revere got closer to his friends, trying to speak louder than the shouts of the mob around them.

"Apparently, this guy," he told his two friends, pointing at young man in the crowd," Edward Garrick, he called out the sentry who was patrolling before the Customs House concerning a bill he had not paid to his master, or something like that. Insults were exchanged, and the Red Coat hit him on the head with the butt of his rifle, and the lad cried for help. Soon, men were hurrying from all directions towards the two men, and well... now, here we are."

As they were still staring at the Red Coats who were standing before the angry crowd, more British soldiers arrived, along with Captain Prescott. The same Captain who had wanted to arrest him several times... Sam was not particularly pleased to see him arrive. But soon, the soldiers were struggling to create a passage through the crowd to reach their companions, and the Captain, shouting, pushing the men before him away, hitting a few men in his violent struggle, hit Sam hard on the forehead with the butt of his musket. He didn't slow down, nor took any care of Sam actually, and hurried through the mob. Paul bent down towards Sam, who was holding his bleeding forehead, momentarily disorientated. He looked at Paul in the eyes for an instant, and he set his dark gaze on his friend's worried expression. But Sam pushed his friend away as he was trying to take a look at his head, and turned towards the soldiers again.

Snowballs and rocks were flying above them, crashing on the pavement and upon the British soldiers. The sound of the landing stones and snowballs sounded like a heavy rain falling upon tin. Somehow, Sam found himself in the first row, next to a tall and strong man he recognized as Crispus Attucks. The two men exchanged a nod. In position, Captain Prescott gave his orders.

" _Hold your fire! Do not shoot!_ "

But every second, the mob was getting closer, and every second the distance between civilians and soldiers was shrinking, and every second the Red Coats were aiming a bit more precisely towards the crowd, until...

A civilian, armed with a stick, rushed towards the Red Coats, hitting a soldier hard on the shoulder with a stick, making him fall to the ground, before being pushed back into the crowd by another British. But it was too late, and Sam saw the scene happening so slowly before his eyes, he could see every single step of the dreadful event, every detail, as if time had suddenly slowed down before the horror of the scene it was witnessing, and needed to focus to make sure it was real.

First, the sparks exploded at the base of the cannon upon the musket...

Then, a large explosion and a detonation...

And smoke, smoke covering the face of this soldier...

And the next second, blood sprang out of the Crispus Attucks's brow, as the fast bullet was piercing his flesh, skull, and brain...

And the tall man next to Sam fell in the snow...

And Sam watched his dead body, wide-eyed, and time had completely stopped by now, too shocked to continue its flowing...

And then there was another shot...

And another...

And another...

And it was all detonations, and sparks, and smoke... smoke everywhere...

And then everyone fled...

Everyone, but Sam.

He didn't take any care of the fleeing crowd behind him, nor of Warren calling for him, nor of Revere watching every one of his movements as he was bending to the ground, and picking up a stick.

Sam strode towards this soldier who had opened fire upon an unarmed crowd, this soldier who had killed the man who had stood right next to him, this soldier who was responsible for his companions to fire on the crowd as well, this soldier, this soldier...

In the blink of an eye, Sam was upon him, and as the Red Coats were fleeing the place as well, Sam hit him hard on the knee, and the soldier fell to the ground. And as he was there, kneeling on the ground, holding his leg, Sam recognized him as a private, judging by his uniform, though he didn't know his name. He didn't know his name was Hugh Montgomery. But he didn't care about his name. He only cared about the sight of blood flowing out of Attucks's skull. And Sam hit him hard on the head, and on the chest, again, and again, and suddenly the soldier was lying on the ground, blood covering his face, crawling away from him. And Sam was wide-eyed.

Sam was wide-eyed before this crawling shape, wide eyed before the blood staining the snow around him, wide-eyed before what he had done...

What had he done...?

What had they done...?

What had they made him do...?

He realized he had started to back away and had thrown away the stick covered with blood only when the thud sound of the wooden stick hitting the pavement echoed in his ears, bringing him back to reality.

When he turned around, there was nowhere left in the square. He didn't have this feeling of slow-motion anymore. Time was flowing again, now that the scene was over. Now that his cruel curiosity was satisfied, no need to delay anymore...

There was no one in the street left, except Sam, standing there, motionless... and Joseph Warren, crying, kneeling in the snow next to Attucks's body...and John Adams staring at the scene, a bit further down the street... and the five shapes lying, bleeding in the snow, covering the white blanket with red pools...

And the snow was still falling upon Boston that night.

* * *

Benjamin Franklin entered the Green Dragon. As he was walking in, the inn was buzzing with indignation, and anger, and burning tongues, and sparkling rage. He sat next to Sam, Joseph and Paul who were talking with Amos and Kelly. Sam turned towards the newcomer quickly.

"Where were you last night?" he asked him. "And the scientists, they're alright?"

Franklin nodded slowly, turning towards Joseph instead of Sam.

"How many dead?" he asked him.

"Four for now, three on the spot, a seventeen year old boy this morning," the doctor answered sadly, a lump in his throat making his voice sound hoarse. "A fifth man will die soon, he was shot in the stomach, he doesn't have a chance. I give him one, maybe two weeks at the most. The others should survive."

Franklin heaved a deep sigh.

"A massacre," he whispered.

He cleared his throat.

"Actually, I was coming to bade you farewell. Hutchinson sends me back in England, probably to try to calm the British down after the events of yesterday. I don't know when I'll be back here."

"We'll miss you, Dr. Franklin," Warren told him, shaking his hand.

"I will sure miss you all as well, gentlemen," Franklin answered, shaking hands with all the men around the table, all these men with whom he had become friends these past few years.

"The scientists, are they alright?" Sam asked him again before he could leave.

Franklin looked up at him, staring at his deep glance.

"We didn't see them last night, on King Street, but..." Warren added.

"No, they were not there last night," Franklin answered, reassuring them. "They were in their house, and I was with them."

"How are they?" Sam asked him.

Sam swallowed, but he couldn't help but ask the question that was burning the tip of his tongue.

"How is Sarah?"

Franklin looked down at the table, speaking slowly and sadly.

"She's doing her best to hide the truth. She's doing everything she can to hide how guilty she feels."

"Guilty?" Revere asked, frowning.

"They knew," Franklin merely answered.

A heavy silence fell upon the group.

"What?" Sam breathed.

"They knew what would happen yesterday evening on King Street. And as I apparently was not supposed to be in Boston last night, they kept me with them all night, and we all remained in their house, until the storm would have finally passed."

Kelly and Sam exchanged a look, and Sam didn't need Kelly to speak out loud to know perfectly what he was thinking. Indeed, he had been right. He had told him before...

Sam suddenly stood up. He leaned towards Paul.

"I want you to make an engraving of what happened. I want everyone talking about it. I want all Boston knowing about last night."

Paul nodded.

"I'll go see Henry Pelham at his house, he'll do us a nice drawing I reckon. How shall we call it?"

"I'm sure you'll find something..."

"Something violent I reckon..."

Paul thought for a moment.

"What about 'The Bloody Massacre'?" Ben Franklin proposed.

"I want the name of the street to appear," Sam said. "I want everyone to know that it all happened right under their noses, next to their homes."

"Or 'The Massacre in King Street'?" proposed Warren.

Paul smiled.

"Or 'The Bloody Massacre perpetrated in King Street'," Paul proposed.

Sam nodded.

"I want you to sell it, to make it spray, as fast as you can."

"'Got it."

But before Paul could grab his coat, Sam was already outside the inn. He strode across the streets, almost running, snow stinging his cheeks. He had to see her, he had to see her now...

* * *

Sarah was alone in the house. All her colleagues were outside, she had no idea where, she hadn't listened to them when they had told her where they were going. How could she have listened about measurements, and particles, and radiations, when she had let five men die the previous night?

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and she got up from the armchair by the fireside to open the door.

"Ms. Hugo," Samuel Adams nodded to her.

"Mr. Adams," she greeted him, trying her best to sound merrier than she was, "what may I do for you?"

She let him come inside, and Sam relaxed as he noticed that they were alone.

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course," she answered, offering him a chair. "Would you like something to drink? A tea perhaps?"

"No, thank you. I don't want anything."

He didn't sit down, even when she did. She could read worry in his eyes.

"What did you want to ask me, Mr. Adams?"

He took a deep breath, before staring at her deep blue eyes.

"Ben Franklin came to the inn today," he said slowly, his voice cold despite his best efforts to hide the anger rising in his chest. "He said..."

He cleared his throat, tears blurring his vision for a second, before he could control himself again.

"He said you knew."

Sarah froze.

"He said you knew about last night," Sam went on. "He said you knew, and you did nothing to prevent it to happen."

A deafening silence...

"Is it true?" Sam asked her slowly.

His heart was pounding in his chest, he was so scared of her answer...

"Did you know?"

She struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. Lying would do no good anyway...

"Yes, I did. We all knew," she answered, her voice shaking.

It was Sam's turn to froze. She shook slowly her head, begging all of a sudden, her blue stare still locked on Sam's dark glance.

"You have to understand... We can't change the past..."

"It's not the past, not for me!" he replied.

"We can't change the course of the events..."

"Did you know for Chris?"

She didn't answer, her throat too tight for her to speak.

"Did you know for Christopher's death?" he asked again slowly, his voice shaking with anger.

She shook her head slowly.

"I didn't remember..."

Sam merely looked silently at her, as tears were flowing down her face.

"I didn't remember for him."

Sam looked down at the ground. The sight of her wet cheeks, and her begging eyes... it was too much for him. And he had one last question...

"If you had remembered... If you had known for Chris, would you have warned us?"

He cleared his tightened throat again, forcing himself to continue.

"Would you have saved his life?"

She looked down at her feet.

"I... I don't know..." she stuttered.

"Answer me!" he roared, looking at her again.

He was breathing so heavily, he was panting almost, fury and pain preventing him to breathe.

"Would you have let this boy, this child, die?"

Closing her eyes, her head low, she answered in a wet whisper.

"Probably, yes."

He felt his heart breaking under his ribs. He wavered his finger slowly, his jaw and fists clenched, his blood boiling.

"Don't talk to any of us again," he said through gritted teeth.

She looked up at him.

"Nor you, nor any of your friends. I don't want to see any of you near one of us, am I clear?"

She couldn't help but put a hand on her heart. God, her chest was so painful... his gaze was so full of hate...

"Sam..." she begged.

"Don't," he ordered, his eyes shining with tears. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. You're ready to let people die..."

"There are so many more lives at stake..."

"No, not for me. Not for now."

"But I can't only think of the people who are living here and now, Sam. I have to think about the ones who are living in _my_ time as well..."

"I don't care about your time..."

"But I do."

"So, you're ready to do whatever may be necessary."

"I know you are ready to do whatever may be necessary as well."

"I wouldn't let a child die..."

"I didn't remember for Chris."

"But you said it yourself, you would have let him die anyway."

"It's so complicated..."

"It's not complicated. It's simple."

"No, it's not simple. You don't know what is going to happen, you don't know how much every single one of the events occurring now will determine the face of the world in the future. You don't know what is coming next, but I do. And you're right, I've let people die for it. But believe me when I tell you that you'll let people die as well before all of this is over."

A deafening silence again...

"We can't trust you," Sam replied in a low voice, shaking his head. "I should have listened to my instinct, I shouldn't have listened to the others, I shouldn't have let you all a chance."

He stared at her blue eyes again.

"None of you will talk to us from now on. We will not help you, nor will have anything to do with you all. Is it clear?"

"Sam..."

"I'll take it as a yes."

And before she could hold him back he had stridden out of the house, and was walking blindly through the snow. His feet guided him to the docks, though he had no memory of going there. But anyway, he couldn't see the docks, the wooden boats, the white sails, the dark sea, the grey sky... it was all just a blurred mist full of pale colours. Tears were blurring everything anyway.


	8. For A Cup Of Tea

**It's time for the Tea Party! As usual, though some details included in this story are accurate, I do not claim to respect the real historical events that occurred during this period.**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews writersarereaders and Calliope's Scribe, it means the world to me to know that someone out there likes what I'm writing.**

 **Two scenes are taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Monday. One little warning, though. I am going on Holidays in the mountains, and I'm not sure I'll always be able to have Wifi, so if I'm late at upating, don't be surprised. It won't mean that there is a problem with this story or anything, merely that I can't access this site to update.**

 **Hope you like this chapter, and please, leave me a little review to tell me what you thought about this new chapter :)**

* * *

 **For A Cup Of Tea.**

"Fuck."

Sarah stared at the screen in front of her, moving the probe back and forth above the sample once more. But her readings were still completely incoherent.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." she mumbled.

Sighing angrily, she ran a hand through her hair, looking at the piece of metal before her again. Iron was not a radioactive element, and still, her readings were telling her that this piece of metal before her _was_ radioactive. For sure, the decomposition was too weak to endanger the health of anyone, but still, the readings were not logical. That was not normal. But then, since the Boston Massacre had occurred, nothing was normal...

She sighed angrily again.

"Putain!" she swore in French.

"A problem?"

She spun around as she was recognizing Warren's voice.

"You're alright?" he asked her again as she wasn't answering.

And in reality, she was way too shocked to see him talking to her to answer.

"I'm... fine, thank you," she finally managed to articulate. "Just... having strange results."

The doctor nodded slowly.

"I'm starting to really miss Dr. Franklin," Warren said. "And he is not even arrived to London yet."

"I miss him as well," Sarah nodded.

Warren sighed.

"Have you talked with Sam at all since... you know..." asked Warren, knowing he didn't have to finish his sentence for the scientist to understand what he meant.

"No, not at all," Sarah answered. "And he made it pretty clear that he didn't want to have anything to do with any of us anymore."

Joseph shook his head.

"Sam is not a bad person. He's a good man," he told her. "But he's... stubborn. And suspicious. I think he's seen enough of human nature to know that men are not always good, and he has a tendency to remember only the worst part of everyone he meets."

"I understand him, I'm not angry against him," Sarah reassured the doctor.

"I know he can be a bit rough sometimes..."

"I understand how he feels. And I'm not holding the fact that he doesn't want to talk to us anymore against him. He simply doesn't know why we chose not to prevent the killing to happen."

"I'm afraid it is difficult for me to understand as well."

Sarah nodded sadly, but a reassuring smile was curving her lips.

"It's okay. And I would understand if you wanted to keep your distance from now on as well. It's a perfectly logical reaction."

Warren gave her a sad smile.

"You're a very kind person, Sarah. I'm sure that you if you did what you did, you had a good reason."

"Trust me Dr. Warren, I had."

Joseph nodded again.

"If you need anything, you can still come to me. I'll help you," he told her kindly.

"Thank you," she answered, tears shining in her eyes all of a sudden.

Warren nodded to her before walking away. Sarah heaved a deep sigh as she was looking at him disappear in the street. It felt good to still have an ally here...

* * *

Sam glowered at his friend.

"I can't believe you talked to her," he told Warren.

"Sam, you need to calm down," John Hancock instructed him.

"I don't reckon I was talking to you, Mr. Hancock," Sam snapped.

Joseph heaved a sigh.

"She is not evil Sam," he told him.

"She left five men die..."

"I'm sure it's much more complicated than just that."

"It's not. She left five men die, and that's cruel, and selfish. We thought she was helping us, but she's not. She doesn't care about us, can't you see? We're not even real people to her, just _history_."

There was a short silence, before Revere would clear his throat.

"Am I the only one here noticing that since the beginning of this conversation, we've been only talking about _her_ and not _them_ ?"

"Paul's right," Kelly said slowly, looking at Sam carefully. "They're all responsible for this."

Sam clenched his jaws.

"It doesn't matter anyway, we can't trust any of them," he said in a low voice, through gritted teeth.

No matter what they could say from now on, Sam would not be played twice by those scientists. He would not believe in their lies again. They were not their friends, they didn't care about what could happen to them. He would not be played by her again.

* * *

Michael held the engraving in his trembling hands. He couldn't believe he was holding a real one. He had never thought he would ever touch one of Paul Revere's engraving of the Boston Massacre.

"Michael, we need to send it in our time, you know you can't keep it, right?" James told him, an amused smile on his face at the sight of his friend's astonished expression.

"But for now, James, _I_ have it. And I intend to make this moment last as long as possible."

His friend merely rolled his eyes in answer.

"You're pathetic."

"And you're a Brit."

"Is that meant as an insult?"

"You know perfectly it is."

"Prick."

"Jerk."

"Asshole."

"Git."

Michael almost fell as he was bumping into someone he hadn't seen coming.

"Sorry," he said, trying clumsily to remain on his two feet.

"No, it's me, I wasn't looking at where I was heading."

Michael recognized the voice before any of them could see each other's face.

"It's alright, Mr. Adams," Michael smiled. "Are you hurt?"

As he was recognizing the scientists, Sam clenched his fists.

"What are you doing here?"

James and Michael frowned slightly at the sound of his very aggressive tone.

"Just... buying a few things."

Sam finally noticed the engraving in Michael's hand. He clenched his fists even thighter.

"How dare you buy this, after what you've done?" he asked them through gritted teeth, his voice made shaky by his boiling anger.

"Look, we don't mean any offence," James tried to calm him down.

"No, you don't mean any offence," Sam laughed wryly. "You merely want to protect the _timeline_ , isn't it?"

"Mr. Adams..."

"Well, if you wanted so much to protect history," Sam went on, ignoring Michael's attempt to calm him down, "maybe you should have stayed in your own time in the first place."

Sam turned around, starting to walk away.

"We're not your enemies, Mr. Adams," Michael called after him.

Sam froze, and spun around again.

"Yes, you are. You're responsible for the death of these five men. Don't try to deny it," Sam snapped. "You could have prevented this to happen."

Michael sighed, shaking his head.

"Things are so much more complicated than that, Mr. Adams."

"For you perhaps, not for me though. You just don't care about what can happen here..."

"We do care," Michael interrupted him. "Didn't it cross your mind that maybe we didn't stop what happened precisely because we do care. I'm from here too. I'm from Boston, it's my town as much as it is yours."

"No it's not. You're not from here. You're from a town that grows and lives more than two hundred years from now, you're not from _here._ And that's why even you don't care."

Sam strode away, leaving the two scientists behind in the middle of the busy street.

James heaved a sigh.

"I need a drink," he stated, before turning towards his best friend. "You?"

Michael nodded slowly, sighing as well.

"Hell yes..."

* * *

He had not been condemned. The man who had killed Christopher Seider had not been condemned. He and his lawyers had pleaded that he had merely defended himself against an angry mob that had been threatening his and his wife's life. Though he couldn't deny that most of the story was true, Ben Franklin knew that the real facts were much more complicated than the tale the merchant was trying to convince everyone with. But Benjamin Franklin hadn't been asked to testify, and when he had arrived in London, and the trial had begun, everyone took great care at making sure that he would remain out of the way. And there was nothing Franklin could do.

For another reason, though not completely independent from the incident with the boy, Franklin walked into the British Parliament. And he felt much like he was walking to his doom. He took a deep breath, before entering the hall.

Before him, the Ministers were gathered, sitting at a long wooden table. The Prime Minister was sitting right at the middle of the long table, and he stared at the gentleman as he was walking inside the hall.

"I am sure you already know the reason for your presence here, Mr. Franklin," Lord North told him bluntly, not bothering himself with any kind of salutation.

"I'm afraid I do, indeed," Franklin answered, nodding.

"What is it about these mobs? Tearing the city of Boston apart?"

"Well... The people of Boston is not very pleased with some of the decisions taken here in London, and the situation has quite... escalated, these past few months," Franklin answered in his most polite tone.

"All this unrest is absolutely unacceptable !"

Franklin searched a moment for the right words.

"Gentlemen, the people in Boston are struggling. And they are feeling that their lack of representation in the Parliament here, in London, is quite... unfair. They do not see why they should be paying taxes as if they were coming from another country, and they do not see why their voice is not listened here by our good King and his government. The incident with the boy set fire to a barrel of powder that has reached a climax that dreadful night, when British soldiers fired upon civilians..."

"These soldiers were merely defending themselves," replied the Minister.

"It is true they had been insulted, and a few in the mob had shown some signs of violence," Franklin admitted. "Nonetheless, these civilians were unarmed, except if you consider snowballs as a weapon. And still, the soldiers opened fire."

Before the angry faces before him, Franklin tried to calm the politicians down, offering them his open hands in a soothing gesture.

"I am not saying, Gentlemen, that the men in the mob do not have their part of responsibility in what occurred that night on King's Street. But the people of Boston will only remember, for many of them at least, that British soldiers killed five unarmed civilians that night, and nothing more."

"I do not care of what these people may think of it!" the Prime Minister snapped. "I will not let five British soldiers be bullied by a bunch of Colonists!"

"Your Excellency," Franklin answered in his most soothing tone. "The trial for the British soldiers and officers will only take place in October, once the shock of the events will have diminished..."

"A trial? What trial?"

"Your Excellency, these soldiers killed five civilians. They must be brought before a trial and judged for their crime..."

"There will be no such thing!"

"The only chance to make the people forget this incident is to give a fair trial to these men. If the people of Boston recognizes that justice has been given to those horrid acts, then they will forget about it, slowly, but they will forget. And the unrest will cease, or at the very least, diminish."

The Prime Minister and his Aide talked together for a moment, whispering, and Franklin couldn't distinguish their words. Finally, Lord North turned towards Franklin.

"The trial shall take place in Boston, we will make sure it does happen. In the meantime, Mr. Franklin, you shall remain here, in London. Something tells me that we will soon need your highlights on some similar matters again very soon."

Franklin bent, before walking out of the hall, as he didn't need any words to know that the Prime Minister wanted him to leave now.

He heaved a deep sigh as he was exiting the Parliament and entering the street. The sun was shining bright, warming his body to his bones, as he was looking at the glistening lights upon the River Tames.

He had a terrible feeling about the whole thing...

* * *

When John Adams walked out of the trial during which he had been defending the soldiers who had fired upon a crowd of unarmed civilians, he wondered once more why in all Heavens he had accepted this case in the first place. He soon spotted through the crowd his cousin waiting for him, leaning against the wooden wall of a house. He strode towards Sam.

"So... how was hell?" Sam asked him.

"Strange," answered John Adams, after he had finally found the word that described the best what had been going in the court.

"I heard only two of them were condemned for murder," Sam said, and though he was trying to hide his bitter tone, John knew him enough to recognize his intonation.

"Don't start being angry," he warned him.

"The jury was bought anyway," Sam spat through gritted teeth.

John heaved a deep sigh.

"I guess I can't deny it. The only two who have been found guilty are those for whom the proofs were more than overpowering."

"What will happen to them?"

"They will be sent back to England. The others are free to go."

"I can't believe you defended them..."

"Everyone deserves a fair trial, Sam. I thought it was one of the many things you were claiming to defend."

"Of course it is. I'm just a bit bitter that _you_ defended the men who killed five unarmed civilians."

"They were not all as innocent as you present them. Some were, but some also tried to hurt these soldiers, and you can't deny it."

"It's not a reason for killing civilians."

"I'm not going to argue with you," John sighed. "I have to admit that I'm not sure that the trial was extremely fair in the end. I'm pretty sure the jury was bought as well."

"At least we agree on one thing."

John took a careful look at his cousin.

"I heard Ben Franklin was going to remain in London," he said, shivering as the frozen wind was blowing through his coat.

"Yes, he warned us that the Prime Minister wanted him to remain there for a while. I guess he is looking for a target upon which he can spit his bullshit concerning Colonists, and Franklin is the perfect man..."

"You are so radical in everything..."

"We're not British to them. You should realize that. You should open your eyes, and see what is going on around you."

"The Townshend Acts were lifted months ago Sam..."

"Because five men died. And anger was still brewing."

"Things are slowly getting better with the British, don't try to be angrier than the situation requires you to be."

Sam sent a dark look at the frozen sun of October.

"Until the new law falls..."

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _December 16, 1773_

Sam took a moment to look at the men around him. He watched Revere as he was tracing two long dark lines from his eyelids down to his jaw line, like Indians at war. Sam took one last look at his pistols.

His dark eyes wandered through the room before lingering upon a small opening upon the opposite wall. Outside, the night had already fallen, and the stars were shedding their pale lights throughout the shadows of the world. The plan for tonight was easy.

First, sneaker to the docks, reach Griffin's Wharf, seize the three ships from the British East Indian Company and destroy their cargo. The three ships targeted? The _Dartmouth,_ the _Eleanor_ and the _Beaver._ He and his friends had planned every detail, everything would be alright...

Tearing himself away from his thoughts, Sam caught sight of a familiar blond wig walking through Paul Revere's workshop and coming his way. He hold the stare Hancock was throwing at him, and merely started to reload his rifle, as if he had been expecting Hancock to come there that night.

The merchant stopped before him, watching him for a second as he was pouring some black powder into his rifle. Then, the gentleman spoke in a slow and serious voice.

" _I strongly advice you not to do this."_

" _Your advice was_ _respectfully noted_ ," Sam replied coldly, staring at Hancock.

" _Everything needs to calm down here, Mr. Adams,_ " Hancock went on, talking in a slow, soothing voice that was barely louder than a whisper. " _All of this violence, and unrest, it is bad for business..._ "

" _Why are you here?"_ Sam interrupted him.

Hancock leaned closer to him and spoke in a fast, urgent tone all of a sudden.

" _For the sake of the business, drop your mind again. Then we can get the cargo flowing and we can get back to making a profit,_ " he added, his voice slowing down again, stressing every one of his words, as usual.

" _It's all money for you,_ " Sam told him through gritted teeth, though his voice was calm and cold. " _It's not what this is about._ "

Sam walked past Hancock and picked up a tumbler, drinking some water from a barrel.

" _Well, what is it_ you _want, hmm?_ " the businessman asked him, getting angry. " _If you carry on with this, I am done!_ "

Sam stared back intensely at Hancock, before throwing the tumbler into the barrel full of water.

" _Let's go, boys,_ " he called for his men.

And all followed him out in the cold street, leaving Hancock alone, standing in the middle of Revere's workshop. Hancock clenched his jaws, and he couldn't help but say aloud the realisation that dawned in his mind then.

" _He's going to get them all killed._ "

* * *

She looked up at the stars that were glimmering softly upon the velvet night sky, little diamonds abandoned in an ocean of shadows. When Sarah had learned that more Red Coats would be posted on sentry at their door, she had felt that something was wrong. She knew it wasn't Yuri's fault this time though, as he had been remaining in the house for days now, working hard. She supposed it was simply a feeling that was shaking the town that something was about to happen, the expectation of an event they knew nothing about yet, but was undeniably coming closer and closer. But _she_ knew what was about to happen. And the reinforcement of sentries scared her. If Hutchinson had reinforced the surveillance upon the scientists' house, why wouldn't he reinforce the patrols throughout the town as well, and in particular, in the harbour? Next to her, James shifted nervously.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" he asked her.

"The Boston Tea Party _must_ happen tonight," Michael answered.

Though James was really nervous, Michael was very excited.

"I can't believe we're going to witness the Boston Tea Party," he whispered as they hid behind the corner of a house.

Sarah's lips curved into an amused smile, while she was glimpsing at the dark street over the corner of the wall. Adams and his men would have to pass this way if they wanted to reach Griffin's Wharf. Sarah and her friends merely had to wait for them now. They would follow them silently through the streets, and distract the British soldiers if necessary, making sure they would reach safely the harbour. They just needed to wait now.

After a while, Michael touched her arm, indicating her that they were coming their way. Indeed, as she was looking towards the direction Michael was pointing at, she recognised the silhouette of Paul Revere. The scientists started to follow them through the dark streets, the cold air of winter bringing them the scent of the salty sea, their shadows melting into the darkness of the night.

They were very near the harbour now. Only a few more streets to go. Sam took a glimpse beyond the wall behind which he was hiding. No choice, he had to knock this Red Coat out if he wanted to progress further into the street. He waited for the soldier to show his back to him, and jumped out of the corner, seizing his mouth to shush his cry of surprise, and Sam hit him hard on the head with the butt of his pistol. Kelly quickly arrived next to him, and helped him dragging him away and hiding the motionless shape of the Red Coat. They hurried further down the street. Every shadow created by the torchlight in the streets had the shapes of threats lurking through the darkness.

They arrived to a new street they needed to cross to reach the other side and keep walking towards the sea. The whispers of the waves rushing upon the shore could be heard now, they were very close...

Kelly crossed the street, running though the dark. Sam pressed his back to the wall, and took a look down the street. Right then, a Red Coat passed...

Sam hurried to hide again, but the soldier had guessed his shape in the shadows. Slowly, his rifle at the ready, he walked further down the street, heading towards the spot where Sam was hiding.

Sam could hear the sound of his footsteps upon the muddy ground, coming closer and closer every second. He armed his pistol, and aimed at the void, the tip of his pistol right at the corner of the house. He aimed right at the level of the coming soldier, though he could not see him coming.

Suddenly, there was a cry higher in the alley, and the Red Coat spun around, hurrying towards the noise. Sam risked a glimpse beyond the corner again. He frowned hard as he was finally recognising the figure in the distance.

Sarah was sitting on the ground, holding her ankle, talking to the Red Coat.

"I think I twisted my ankle," she said to the soldier.

"Can you walk?" the Red Coat asked her.

She shook her head no.

"I don't think so. I'll give it a try though, if you can give me a hand getting back on my feet?"

"Of course."

He bent down to reach for her, and Michael suddenly jumped out of the shadows, and knocked him out. He helped Sarah standing again, and the scientist didn't seem to have a painful ankle at all.

"James, give me a hand," Michael whispered to the darkness.

The Englishman appeared quickly by his side.

"I can't believe you knocked him out..."

"Oh come on James, get a grip!"

"You're so violent!"

"Chut!" Sarah urged them to shut up.

She walked down the street towards Sam's hiding place. He didn't rise his weapon this time, though his finger was still upon the trigger.

"Mr. Adams?" she called, whispering.

As she was reaching the corner, he grabbed her by surprise, dragging her behind the wall as well, pressing his palm against her lips to shush her cry, holding her tightly against him. He pressed his mouth to her ear.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked through gritted teeth, whispering angrily.

He let her take his hand away from her lips, though he kept her back tightly pressed against his chest.

"I'm saving your arse," she replied in a whisper. "Again."

"I don't need your help."

"You look like you do though."

"I don't."

"Well, then you can just let go of me, and let me go back home."

"What tells me you won't tell on us before going home?"

"Do you really think I would knock out a Red Coat to run right to Hutchinson and confess everything?"

Sam took a few seconds to think. She could feel his warm breath against her ear and her cheek, and it was making her heart race into her chest. Sam heaved a sigh.

"Get out of here," he ordered.

He slowly released her, and she turned towards him, staring at his dark eyes for a few seconds. She had barely seen him these past few years, but when her blue eyes met his gaze, she felt the same butterflies in her stomach that he ignited in her three years before. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought. Sam was motionless before her. She turned around, and strode down the street again, joining her two friends.

"You went hard on her, she was helping us," Warren whispered in Sam's ear.

Samuel chased his remark away like he would have chased a fly buzzing in his ear.

"Let's go," he merely answered, hurrying across the street.

He couldn't let Warren distract him, they were so close to their goal now...

* * *

They finally reached the harbor. The great figure of the ship was like a swaying shadow covering the stars. They could hear the wood shrieking in the dark, cracking under the strength of the waves. Approaching in a rowboat, Warren prepared himself to aboard the ship. His painted jaw was set, his eyes glimmering with focus and anticipation. He slowly climbed up the boat, being careful at remaining as silent as possible. He landed upon the deck in a paddy thud. A sailor was bending over a chest, he was the only man visible from where the doctor was hiding. Joseph took a look at the opposite side of the ship, and saw Paul Revere climbing onboard as well. Warren stood straighter, before striding towards the sailor. As he was finally catching sight of him, the man stood straighter as well, frowning, and calling the newcomer quite angrily.

" _Hey, what are you doing here?_ " he asked.

" _Taking this ship, you loyalist bastard!_ " replied Revere as he was approaching discreetly from behind.

He punched the sailor hard on the face, knocking him out. At the sound, the Red Coats on the ship finally noticed the two men standing in the dark, and hurried towards them. Sam chose this very moment to jump aboard as well, landing lightly right between the two soldiers. He pointed a pistol at each of the soldier's face.

" _Take a swim,_ " he ordered calmly.

The two soldiers immediately obeyed, and jumped overboard, landing with a short cry into the water. Sam guided his men into position quickly.

The Red Coats started to appear in the harbor, hurrying towards them, and Sam walked closer to the edge of the ship as the bridge was thrown away, separating the ship from the coast. Standing straight, his dark glance determined, Sam looked at the soldiers approaching. Positioned high into the ropes, Kelly looked at the soldiers as they were hurrying towards the ship as well.

" _Well, they see us anyway,_ " he told Sam.

" _Good,_ " Sam merely answered, still staring at the running Red Coats.

" _What if they shoot?_ " Kelly asked him.

" _Then we shoot back_ ," Sam ordered.

" _Fair enough,_ " replied Kelly as he was taking aim at the soldiers.

The soldiers stopped, some distance away from the ship, though they were close enough to see the angry Colonists, and would be able to aim at them despite the darkness.

" _Take your position,_ " Sam ordered, his voice still perfectly calm and confident.

On the shore, Captain Preston was staring at Sam, his jaws clenched.

" _Formation!_ " he ordered in a howl.

The soldiers quickly took position, whilst civilians were slowly approaching, drawn there by the sound of the soldiers. Amongst them, John Adams was looking carefully at Sam, as he was recognizing his tall figure upon the deck. A bit further away in the crowd, Sarah, James and Michael had arrived as well, and were looking at the scene, their hearts beating fast in the tensed atmosphere that had covered the docks.

Aboard the ship, the men had taken position as well. Despite all this tension, Revere seemed more than relaxed.

" _Let's break open the cargo,_ " he proposed his comrades in a grin. " _Hamish!_ "

A tall man handed him a tomahawk. Revere let the sharp weapon fall upon the nearest chest of tea.

" _You're not going to let us sell our goods?_ " he cried to the Red Coats. " _We're not going to let you sell yours! You can't force us to drink shit tea once it's in the bottom of the harbor!_ "

And he threw the chest overboard and into the water. Soon, many men were doing just the same.

Preston, his jaws set, was still staring at Sam.

" _Ready arms!_ " the officer ordered.

As his men were getting ready to fire, Preston lifted his pistol, aiming directly at Sam, who was daring him silently to shoot. And every second, Preston's finger was pressing a bit more upon the trigger...

Sarah's heart stopped, and she made a movement towards the soldiers, but she was stopped by shouts coming from behind her.

" _Stop! Stop! Stop!_ "

The Governor arrived, running towards the soldiers.

" _Do not fire!_ " he ordered, as he was arriving next to Preston.

Preston clenched his jaws even tighter.

" _Governor, he has dozens of men..._ "

" _I don't care,_ " the Governor answered in a breathy, urging voice. " _If you fire now, it's gonna be a bloodbath!_ "

Sarah slowly approached them. The Governor looked at her as she was coming closer.

"Ms. Hugo, now is not the time."

"Captain, please," she pleaded slowly, her voice soothing. "Please, think about what you're doing."

Sam finally recognized Sarah's shape in the dark. The light of the moon and the stars was painting silver reflections of the sky upon her dark hair. His heart stopped. What the hell was she doing...?

"Captain, think about the consequences," Sarah told him slowly.

"He has dozens of men," the officer repeated through gritted teeth.

"Captain..."

Sarah positioned herself right next to his firearm.

"If you're shooting now, you won't only kill civilians, you will also get your men killed. They are armed this time, these men will defend themselves. They are merely destroying tea. Do you really think that the lives of your men should be sacrificed for a few chests of tea?"

Michael and James had walked closer as well, though they remained a few steps away from the scene. If one of them could handle the situation, it was Sarah.

"Captain, do not fire!" ordered the Governor again.

" _Sir..._ " the officer protested.

" _Look at him, Captain!_ " Hutchinson replied, his voice still breathy. " _He's baiting you to shoot!_ "

He pointed at Sam, who had taken a few more steps towards them, coming closer to the banister. He was staring at Sarah now though Preston was still thinking he was looking at him. But Sam's dark glance was set on Sarah's back and shining hair.

What the hell was she doing? She wasn't supposed to be there, she wasn't supposed to take part in this...

Hutchinson turned to Preston again.

" _Do_ not _make Samuel Adams a martyr! Order your men to stand down!_ "

The Captain remained motionless for a while, silence wrapping itself all around the harbor, only broken by the sound of the whispering sea. His eyes, still fixed upon Sam, were alit with hatred. Sarah could not take any more of this...

She put her hand upon Preston's pistol, wrapping her fingers around it, and forcing him to lower his weapon. She and Preston exchanged a glance.

" _Now!_ " Hutchinson commanded from behind her.

On the boat, Sam had set a foot upon the banister, his breathing unsteady, his heart racing. What the hell was she doing...? She would get herself killed...

" _Hold your arms,_ " Preston ordered.

Sam heaved a sigh, relaxing.

Sarah closed her eyes, releasing a breath she hadn't known she had been holding, and Hutchinson relaxed as well as did everyone on the docks.

" _'Found the wine!_ " exclaimed a man on the boat, holding two bottles in his hands.

Everyone aboard cheered and laughed, relaxing as well, and turning towards the cargo.

" _Look at his face!_ " Revere told Sam, laughing at Preston who was fuming on the shore, before patting his shoulder and heading towards the cargo again. " _Crazy little shit..._ "

Sam kept staring at the officer for a while, before setting his dark glance on Sarah again. He caught her blue eyes as she was turning towards the ship, and they remained motionless for a moment, as they were merely diving into each other's soul. He finally looked away, turning back towards his men, as they were throwing the tea overboard once more.

The tea leaves drifted upon the sea, bathed in the light of the stars, heading slowly towards the infinite ocean, leaving the shores of Boston.


	9. Sons Of Tyranny

**Hi everyone! I'm back from my trip! Sorry I couldn't update for these past two weeks, but I had no Wi-Fi. But now that I'm back home, I'll update regularly again.**

 **Thank you to all of you who have reviewed/favorited/followed this story, you're the best, guys. You can't imagine how euphoric I am every time I receive a review or a notification that one more person is now reading my story.**

 **One scene has been taken from the series in this chapter.**

 **Next update on Monday (as usual).**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this new chapter. Don't forget to leave me a review ;)**

* * *

 **Sons of Tyranny**

The sun was rising. A golden orb flying throughout the pale sky, stained with cotton-like clouds. But in the house of the scientists, no one was paying attention to the beautiful sky of December that was illuminating the world, as they were arguing fiercely.

"We can't stay here anymore," Sarah repeated for what seemed to be the hundredth time. "We must depart before Gage arrives..."

"We still have months before we come to that," Yuri replied, sighing as his annoyance towards his colleague was rising a bit more every second.

"We must start to organize the departure now," Sarah insisted. "The time we'll need to send back all of our equipments and data, to finish our last measurements... we need to start preparing the journey back now, and leave in early February."

"Why so soon?" Yoko asked suddenly. "Gage is not supposed to arrive here before May. We'll miss months of work!"

"We can't take any risk," Michael replied. "If something goes wrong, or we need a bit more time than we had thought at first... We need to have some time still before Gage arrives."

"Why are you so scared of him anyway?" Yuri asked his three colleagues. "Maybe Gage would let us continue our research just as freely as Hutchinson does."

Sarah snorted wryly.

"Gage is not Hutchinson," she snapped. "He's a military man, not a diplomat. If he sees an advantage in us, he will do whatever he may think is necessary to use us as he pleases. Hutchinson was too afraid of us and our technology to make any really hostile move against us. But Gage will not hesitate. He'll arrest us, and probably torture us, if he thinks we have information that will interest him."

"You're so pessimistic about everything..."

"No, I'm not pessimistic, I'm realistic. Gage is not known for being a kind lamb. He's the hunter, not the prey. For our own protection, and for the sake of the timeline, we _have_ to go before Gage arrives here and can force us to help him."

"Sarah is right," James agreed with a nod. "Yuri already messed up with the timeline to get Hutchinson cooperate. And don't try to deny it, we all know it was you," James added as Yuri was opening his mouth to protest. "Gage would do anything to know what is going to happen, and we can't take the risk to be in a position in which we have no chance but to reveal what we know to him."

"We must be gone before Gage arrives here," Sarah said, staring at Yuri intensely.

Yuri heaved a deep sigh.

"We can still wait till January to start to prepare the journey back," he said. "But we'll try to leave before the end of February, just in case there is a problem with the LHC. Is it fine for you?" he asked Sarah.

She nodded slowly, thinking hard.

"Yes, it should be safe enough that way. It will give us some time to finish what we're doing at the moment, and pack up our things."

They all nodded, and Yuri followed Sarah as she was heading towards the kitchen.

"Do you think you will be done with the measurements by the time we leave?" he asked her as she was preparing herself some coffee.

She didn't propose her colleague if he wanted something to drink, and merely prepared the hot beverage for herself.

"Of course," she answered. "And even if we're not done, it's much more important that we leave this period alive with an incomplete work than dead but with a full study of the wormhole."

Yuri shook his head.

"You can say it if you're homesick," he told her, and though he tried to sound kind, he merely sounded annoyed. "But don't give stupid excuses for your lack of ambition."

Sarah exploded with laughter.

"Well, stay if you wish," she replied. "As long as you don't make me stay to burry your dead body..."

"You talk about these people as if you knew them, but you don't. You don't know what their reactions will be towards us and our work. We have the protection of the King..."

"The King doesn't give a damn about us," Sarah snapped. "He's miles away, we're not telling him anything, we're not helping him to do anything, we're not building weapons for him, nor teaching him the secrets of his future, we are _not_ useful to him. Do you really think that the King of England cares about what happens to people who are of no use to him? You're either naive, either lying to yourself. And I don't know which possibility is the worst..."

"I'm not naive, merely trying to rationalize what you're trying to explain with your emotions," he interrupted her.

"I'm not using my emotions."

"You're just scared."

"Of course I'm scared. There will be a war!"

"A war that is still years away from us."

"No, war has already started. We're on the warpath now. There's no coming back anymore. And I don't want to witness it. Do you understand?"

"There will be no fight for years..."

"There has already been some fights..."

"The Boston Massacre was completely different..."

"It was the beginning. Soon there will be Red Coats everywhere, soon the Sons of Liberty will gather weapons and ammunitions, soon they will form militias..."

"We have plenty of time..."

"No, we don't! Open your eyes, for Goodness' Sake!"

She walked closer to him, their chests almost touching.

"I'm not being paranoid, Yuri. We are dealing with things that are too dangerous and too complex for us. We _must_ leave while we are still free to go. Do you understand?"

Yuri nodded slowly, and Sarah walked out of the room.

It took Yuri several minutes to make his heart slow down again.

* * *

He spotted her easily on the docks. She was sitting there, motionless, staring at the infinite sea, the salty wind blowing in her long dark hair, the sun making her eyes shine with a bright blue shade. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Warren asked his friend.

Sam shook himself.

"No, I'll talk to her," he answered.

"Sure?" asked Revere slowly.

"Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry. I reckon I can survive five minutes with her."

Warren, Kelly and Revere exchanged a glance, as Sam was striding towards Sarah.

She started as she was hearing footsteps next to her.

"Mr. Adams?" she frowned as she was recognizing his stern figure. "Can I do something for you?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, if it doesn't bother you," he answered. "May I?"

He sat down next to her as she was nodding, still surprised by his presence next to her.

"What did you want us to discuss?" she asked him after a moment of heavy silence.

"Why did you intervene yesterday night?" Sam asked bluntly.

His voice was quite cold, but he didn't seem to be really angry. She looked away, and set her blue gaze upon the rushing waves that came crushing against the boats in the harbour. The sound of the sea moving back and forth was like a shout in the deafening silence between them.

"I heard Hutchinson had reinforced the surveillance on our house," she answered earnestly after a while. "We feared he would do the same throughout the town. We were scared you might get caught before reaching the docks."

"And we were supposed to reach the docks, weren't we?"

"Yes, you were."

"So you just did this to make sure that fate would happen as it happened in your version of History, right?" he said through gritted teeth, his voice bitter.

Sarah heaved a sigh, looking at him again.

"What am I supposed to answer to that?"

"Nothing, I guess," he whispered.

"We're not your enemies."

"You're not our allies either. And in this world, if you're not allies, you're enemies."

"You're dealing in absolutes..."

"Life deals in absolutes."

She looked at the sea again, her expression sad all of a sudden. He looked away as well. For a reason he didn't understand, the sight of pain on her face was making his heart ache.

"I am not free of following my conscience concerning the events that are happening here, Mr. Adams," Sarah said slowly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "I have to do what must be done, and not what I want to do."

Sam clenched his jaws, shifting as he was feeling a sharp pain in his chest.

"Are you saying that if you had the choice, you would have helped Hutchinson catching us last night?" he asked, his voice slightly shaking despite his best efforts to keep it steady.

She looked at him again, and the intensity of her blue stare made him set his glance upon hers once more. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, and barely audible above the sound of the crushing waves.

"No, Mr. Adams. I would fight with you."

Sam's eyes widened a bit, and his lips parted slightly with shock. They remained silent for a while, merely staring into each other's soul.

The wind pushed suddenly her hair into her face, and she closed her eyes to avoid her dark locks to collide with her irises. Before she could lift her hand to chase the locks away, Sam brushed softly his fingertips upon her brow, pushing slowly her dark hair away from her face. His fingers lingered on her temple, calloused against her soft skin, going down to her cheekbone, and to her cheek, until they would rest upon her jaw, his thumb caressing the outline of her lower lip. He stared at her lips for a moment, both of them perfectly still.

"Trusting you is too dangerous, for all of us," Sam finally said after what seemed to be an eternity.

He sounded like he was trying to convince himself of an absolute truth that seemed obvious to everyone else, but of which he couldn't understand the meaning somehow.

"I won't do you any harm, Sam," she answered slowly.

He looked at her eyes again, but she looked away all of a sudden, clenching her jaws.

"It won't remain a concern of yours for long now anyway."

He frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asked her.

"We're leaving at the end of February," she answered, still fleeing his intense dark glance.

Sam dropped his hand, starting, as if her skin had burnt him. His eyes grew wide.

"What?" he breathed.

"We're going back in our time by the end of February," she repeated slowly, her voice a bit hoarse as she was struggling to control the lump that was rising in her throat.

Sam looked down at his knees.

"You've finished your work?" he asked her.

"I guess we can put it that way," she answered elusively.

Sam nodded, his jaws clenched again. He felt tears blurring his vision, for a reason he failed to understand, and he stood up, hiding his reaction from her. Sarah looked up at him.

Sam remained standing still next to her for a moment. Now that she was about to go, he regretted these past few years he had lost in her company, because he had been too stubborn to listen to her, and to forgive her for doing what she had no choice to do. Now that he was about to lose her, he didn't want her to go...

"You'll be welcome in the Green Dragon, if you ever want to go there..." he told her slowly, and he felt her stare upon him more intense than before.

When he looked at her again, she was smiling.

"Thank you," she answered in a shaky voice.

"Only you though," Sam added, " and your two colleagues who helped us last night. I don't trust the others, especially the German."

Sarah's smile turned into a grin.

"Well, I would advise you not to trust him in fact," she said.

Sam smiled slowly, and nodded.

"Well, you can come by whenever you want."

"Thank you."

He stared at her for a moment. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he regretted to have been so stubborn during these past few years. He wanted to tell her he regretted to have missed three years in her company. He wanted to tell her it was all his fault, and that if he could rewind, he would not do things the same way. But when he opened his mouth to speak, his heart racing in his chest, other words formed on his tongue, and somehow, he immediately regretted them.

"Have a good day, Ms. Hugo," he said, his voice neutral.

"Good day, Mr. Adams," she answered, her grin flinching at the sound of his tone.

Sam walked away, leaving the scientist alone in the harbour again.

* * *

"So, the scientists are welcome here now?"

"They are indeed. But not all of them."

"Yeah, only the three who helped us, right?"

"That's it."

Amos couldn't help but frown.

"I don't trust them though."

"I've never said that I trusted them," Sam replied, drinking up his beer.

"Why have you invited them then?" Kelly asked him.

Sam stared at his empty pint.

"They're leaving in two months. I don't reckon it will do us any harm if we spend an evening or two in their company."

"So... it's just because it's harmless for us?" Revere asked him, propping up an eyebrow.

"And who knows... Maybe we could learn something useful," Sam added.

"There's no other reason?" Joseph asked, a small smile curving his lips.

"Of course not," Sam defended himself.

"Of course not," Revere repeated, sharing an amused glance with Warren. "It's not at all because of this lovely woman..."

"Paul, shut it," Sam snapped, glowering at him.

Warren laughed.

"Do you think they will come?" the doctor asked Sam.

"I don't know," Sam answered, shrugging.

"Well, _she_ came anyway," Kelly told his friends, as he was staring at the front door.

They all turned around, following Kelly's stare, and Sarah walked slowly towards them, clearly feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Gentlemen," she nodded to them.

They all nodded back as she was taking the seat Warren was offering her between him and Sam.

"It's good to see you two talking to each other again," the doctor smiled at Sarah and Sam.

Sarah merely laughed, whilst Sam was discreetly glaring at his friend.

"Thank you, for the little help yesterday," Revere told her in a nod.

"You're welcome," she answered in a smile.

"So what happened last night was supposed to happen, right?" Kelly asked her.

"It was indeed, yes," she answered.

"It must have been important, if you got involved," Amos added.

Sarah chuckled, drinking up a gulp of beer.

"It is a very famous event actually."

"Really?" asked Joseph, propping up an eyebrow.

She nodded.

"The Boston Tea Party," she said.

They all exploded with laughter.

"What the hell is that name?" Paul asked, still laughing.

"That's how we call it."

"Anyway, it pissed off Hutchinson just right," Amos said with a smirk. "I've heard that he sent a letter to London this very morning, gone with the first ship that was heading there."

"I'd like to see George's face when he hears about what we've done with his tea!" Kelly laughed.

"By the way," Warren told Sarah. "Sorry, we offered you a beer, but maybe you would have liked some tea or..."

Sarah merely laughed.

"Beer is perfect. And anyway, I wouldn't expect you to have tea. Aren't you boycotting English tea or something?"

"We are indeed," Warren admitted with a laugh.

"I'm afraid you won't find much of English tea for a while in town anyway," Paul said with a smirk. "Hope you weren't drinking too much of it."

Sarah let out a laugh.

"We are boycotting as well, don't worry," she reassured them.

"Really?" Sam asked, propping up an eyebrow.

Sarah nodded.

"James had trouble keeping up though," she admitted with a chuckle. "He drinks lots of tea. But with Michael and me around, he had no chance to smuggle some into the house, for sure."

"You look very at ease in an inn like this for a lady," Amos pointed out.

Sarah laughed merrily.

"Well, clearly I'm not that much of a lady," she answered.

"I'm sure someone had a terrible influence on you in the past," Warren predicted.

"Michael without a doubt," she nodded. "He's the one who's always dragging us in bars and pubs in the first place."

"You seem to hold your liquor quite well," Paul smiled as he was handing her a second beer.

"Definitely Michael's fault again. It's also his fault if I'm good at fighting. I've stopped counting the number of times he got involved in a fight, and James and I had to get him out of it."

"Well, remember us not to piss you off then," Warren laughed.

The conversation went smoothly for a long while, and when it drifted back on more serious topics, the sky was already full of stars.

"Sam told us you were leaving," Warren told slowly Sarah.

"By the end of February, if everything goes smoothly," she nodded.

"So... you're done with your work here?" Kelly asked.

Sarah flinched for a second, before answering naturally again.

"Yes. Time to go home."

Sam and Revere exchanged a frown.

"Why are you leaving?" Sam asked coldly.

She looked at him again.

"Because it's time for us to go. We've been here long enough, don't you think?"

"You're homesick? That's it?"

"Of course I am."

"What are you hiding?"

She shook her head, snorting.

"The truce never lasts for long with you, does it?" she asked him, and her voice sounded annoyed.

Somehow, it was painful for him to hear this tone in her voice while she was talking to him.

"Never mind," he mumbled, drinking up some beer.

Sarah looked at her watch.

"It's late already, I should go. Good night, gentlemen."

"Good night," they answered in unison.

As she was exiting the inn, plunging into the falling snowflakes, Kelly turned towards Sam.

"They're hiding something," he said.

"Yes, they are," Sam answered slowly. "Something is going to happen, that's why they're leaving."

Sam heaved a deep sigh, finally tearing his stare away from the door through which the scientist had disappeared seconds before. He finished his drink in one gulp.

"I don't like it," Revere mumbled.

"Whatever is going to happen, it won't be good for us," Sam agreed, nodding.

He looked at the snowflakes colliding onto the window, freezing the glass, as the dancing flames in the hearth next to him were reflecting their light upon the frost. He didn't know what was coming, but if the scientists were fleeing it, he had to get prepared for the storm to come as well.

* * *

Benjamin Franklin was sitting in the middle of the room, the Ministers staring angrily at him, as if he alone was the source of all their troubles.

" _This is yet another incident in a long line of treasonable acts committed by a childish and insubordinate colony!_ "

The angry Minister glowered at Franklin as his tone was both passionate and cold, outraged as he was by the behaviour of the people of Boston.

" _It was a simple protest,_ " Franklin tried to temper him. " _One that admittedly got a bit out of hands but..._ "

" _Nineteen thousand shillings of Royal Merchandise dumped into the harbour!_ "

" _Mr. Wedderburn..._ " Franklin tried to calm the minister down.

" _And when they commit this heinous acts of terrorism,_ " Wedderburn went on, ignoring Franklin, " _their Governor does_ nothing! _Let it all happen, right under his nose!_ "

Franklin leaned forward on his chair towards the Ministers before him, lined up behind the long wooden table, as if they needed the furniture to protect themselves from Franklin and his malice. Despite how much he could hate doing this, trying his best to make them open their eyes to things that seemed so obvious to him and foreign to them, Franklin knew he didn't have a choice. And with his most patient tone, he tried one more time to explain what he had been trying to explain for months, years even.

" _The people of Boston are merely reacting to a policy in which they are forced to purchase..._ "

" _Nobody is forcing the colonists to behave in this way!_ " Wedderburn interrupted him, more outraged than ever. " _They seem quite content subverting the King's authority on their own accord._ "

" _They are simply defending their natural rights as Englishmen._ "

" _Englishmen?!_ "

The Ministers laughed, mocking the so naive Colonist in front of them. And Franklin could see his chances of convincing them vanishing slowly, disappearing a bit more every second. And he desperately needed to convince them to abandon this folly if he wanted to protect Boston and its inhabitants.

" _These_ Colonists," Wedderburn went on, taking great care at stressing the word 'Colonists', noticing thus Franklin about what he thought of the matter, " _are committing treason. They are thugs and outlaws, the sons of Tyranny. They should be beaten into submission!_ "

The Ministers all approved, clapping their hands against the table in their cheers.

Franklin stood up, staring at the Prime Minister. He couldn't convince Wedderburn and the others, but maybe he could put some sense in North's head...

" _Suppose you were to send an additional military force into Boston,_ " he said slowly. " _What do you think the reaction would be? Your soldiers won't find a rebellion there but... they may inspire one._ "

He let his words sink in for a moment, before resuming his speech, his voice still calm, but convincing and determined.

" _If you make martyrs of these men, the people of Boston won't see them as sons of Tyranny. They'll be seen as sons of Liberty._ "

There was a deafening silence for a moment, broken by the Lord Wedderburn as he was turning towards Lord North.

" _Mr. Prime Minister_ ," he said, his voice shaking with anger. " _Is there nothing to be done to quash this insurrection?_ "

Still staring sternly at Ben Franklin, the Prime Minister stood up.

" _I believe there may be,_ " he answered.

Throwing glares at Franklin, the Ministers all walked away without another word to the elder man standing there in the middle of the room, motionless. When all of them were gone, Franklin turned slowly around to walk out of the room as well, his expression determined all of a sudden.

What was coming was more than a storm, it was a hurricane. And Franklin had to get back to Boston before the hurricane would strike his home.

* * *

"We're already late Yuri!"

"Sarah, relax."

"No, I'm not calming down! We were supposed to leave in late February, and now it's early April, and we're still here!"

She had raised her voice against her colleague, and his teeth gritted at the sound of her furious tone.

"We still have time."

"We have to go in two weeks, whether our research is complete or not."

"Why are you so eager to go back home anyway, it's not like you're not having fun here!" Yuri snapped angrily.

Sarah narrowed her eyes, her fists clenched.

"I beg your pardon? What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You and your friends, I've seen you hanging around at the Green Dragon, don't try to deny it."

"I can have a social life, as long as it doesn't endanger neither or mission, nor the timeline."

"Maybe. You're right. But I don't get why you're so willing to go home when you clearly have lots of friends here."

"It's not about being homesick or not. It's about the timeline. It's about Gage arriving in a month. It's about the war coming!"

"Even if we miss the next opening, it won't be a big deal."

"It will be!" she roared. "You heard what they said, our team there, in our time, will not be able to open the bridge for six weeks after the next opening."

"Yes, maintenance..."

"It means that they will open the bridge again when Gage will have been here for at least three, maybe four weeks!"

"Nothing harmful will happen in four weeks! We still have years before the war begins."

"You know it's not true. It will soon be upon us. We must go now! We must go when we still have the chance!"

"What do you think Gage will do anyway? They're all freaking out whenever we wave a piece of shiny equipment at them! He won't make a move against us anyway."

"Gage is _not_ Hutchinson!" Sarah snapped, her voice shaking with fury. "And we're not fighters, we're not killers. If he sends his men here, we won't be able to protect ourselves. He will do whatever he wants with us if we give him the opportunity by staying here when he arrives!"

"You're overestimating him. He's a cautious man, for sure. He won't try anything when he has no way of knowing what all our equipment is about. We could still threaten him..."

"Gage is not a cautious man," Sarah protested. "Have you read any History book about what is supposed to happen here? He won't hesitate to destroy the whole house to be sure that we have no way of attacking him. And _he_ will be the one to threaten us, in order to have information. And we can't give him any!"

"Why not? In the worst scenario, why couldn't we cooperate just the time for us to find a way to get back home?"

"BECAUSE HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO WIN!" she howled.

Yuri flinched.

"Because with our knowledge of the events, Gage will without a doubt have such an advantage that he will tear the Sons of Liberty into pieces! Because if we talk, and we tell him what will happen, we will change the future!"

She took several deep breaths, struggling to steady her shaky voice, but she gave up quickly, her blood boiling way too much in her veins anyway.

"If Gage destroys the Sons of Liberty before the war begins, there won't be a war. It will start in Boston, but then you can be sure that Gage will hunt down every single man who is friendly to them, wherever they may be in the Colony. And if there is no war, there is no Independence, and with no Independence, there is no United States!"

She took a step closer to him, her voice begging more than angry now.

"We could be the reason for a whole nation to disappear. Now, for sure the United States are not perfect in our world, it doesn't mean that they don't deserve to exist."

"I've never said I didn't want them to exist," Yuri defended himself. "I have no harsh feelings towards Americans."

"Then why are you behaving as if you wanted the British to win the war before it even begins?"

"I'm not grounding for the British. And I'm not grounding for the Americans either. This whole thing we're studying is extraordinary. We are revolutionizing the way we understand the world, we are revolutionizing physic! And I for one am ready to take a few risks as long as it allows me to do my job properly. We have a duty towards our own time as well..."

"Don't start giving me your bullshit about moral and duty!" Sarah snapped, fury burning in her eyes again. "I know you don't have any sense of duty and honour, you don't have any moral! You are merely a selfish prick who is ready to do anything as long as it serves his own interests! You don't want to bring knowledge to our world, you only want everyone in the community to look up at you as a great scientist, a great mind of our time. Well sorry Yuri, but you're just an arse!"

She turned around to get out of the room, but Yuri stopped her, holding her forearm firmly.

"Oh, I'm an arse, really?" he asked, furious.

"Yes, you are just a moron!" she went on. "If you think that a couple of equations are worth to endanger the lives of billions of people throughout two entire centuries then yes, you are definitely the dumbest person I know!"

She freed her arm from his grasp and strode out of the room, heading upstairs to her room. Yuri remained motionless for a while, standing still in the middle of the living room, surrounded by screens, and devices, and books, and papers, and long lists of calculations that most of the time led nowhere.

Perhaps she was right, perhaps he wasn't anything more than what she had just described. Maybe she really didn't see anything more in him, and would never see anything else in him. Maybe she would always see an enemy in him, a dark figure standing in her path, that she couldn't get rid of as she so desperately longed to do. But maybe she was just angry. Maybe it was just fury talking, and not her. Maybe one day, when all this would be over, she would change her mind about him. He let his fingers roam upon her desk, feeling the soft wood upon which she laid her arm when she was working, and the screen that her deep blue glance was staring so often at, and her glass upon which her soft lips were resting...

Maybe one day she would change her mind, and see in him what he saw in her.


	10. When The Night Is Falling

**Here comes a new chapter! Nothing has been taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Hope you like this chapter. Please, please, please, please tell me what you think about it. Don't forget to review :)**

* * *

 **When The Night Is Falling**

"Michael, can you repair it?"

"I don't know."

"What's wrong with the battery anyway?"

"I don't know, Yuri! And if you don't stop asking I won't be able to find out what's wrong, for sure."

Yuri heaved a deep sigh, frustrated.

"If you don't repair the generator, we can't secure the data..."

"I know that also, thank you," Michal snapped. "Though the first problem is that we don't have electricity, which means that I can't see a bloody thing..."

Michael hissed, taking his thumb in his mouth all of a sudden. Sarah hurried by his side.

"You cut yourself?" she asked him, clearly worried.

Michael nodded, his thumb still buried in his mouth, wincing hard. She forced him to show her his finger: he had a long and deep cut all along the inside of his thumb.

"It doesn't look good," she told him.

She started to drag him towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Yuri yelled.

"Look for Warren. It's really deep, and I have no idea how to heal that," Sarah replied.

James hurried with them out of the house, Yuri following them, outraged.

"We need to repair the generator, or else we won't be able to secure..."

"...the data, yes Yuri, we know," Sarah interrupted him, feeling her blood boiling in her veins. "But Michael won't be very efficient if he's bleeding, don't you think?"

"Hurry up then, we have three days left..."

"I know, Yuri. We all know. But even if the generator is not repaired, it doesn't mean we'll lose everything..."

"We'll take more risks of losing our work. We won't be able to complete the second backup copy..."

"We still have one full backup of the data already. We're not going to lose anything. But now, we have to take care of Michael."

Yuri sighed again out of his frustration, but he didn't add anything, and let his colleagues disappear in the square. He needed to secure the data, he couldn't take any risk...

* * *

Warren was not at his house. Sarah hurried down the street, guiding Michael, whose thumb was still bleeding profusely despite the bandage that his friends had wrapped around his finger. Behind them, James was looking even paler than Michael.

"James, don't faint," Sarah ordered him. "I can't handle both of you if you're sick."

"It's the sight of blood..." James mumbled behind her.

"I know, but I'm telling you that I can't handle both of you at the same time. So please, don't faint."

Sarah opened the door of the Green Dragon, and guided her two friends inside. She spotted easily the doctor in a corner, with Sam, Paul and Kelly. The four men frowned hard at the sight of the three scientists hurrying towards them.

"What happened?" Warren asked them, standing up as he was noticing Michael's bleeding finger.

"I cut myself," Michael told him calmly. "And I'm afraid it's a bit too deep for us to handle."

They made him sit down at the table, and Sarah made James turn around before Michael would reveal his wounded thumb.

"That doesn't look very good," Revere winced at the sight of Michael's bleeding finger.

"It's pretty deep," Warren nodded. "I'll need more than I have with me. Let's go to my house."

Michael stood up, quickly followed by James and Sarah. But Sam stopped them as they were heading for the door.

"Could I have a word, just for a minute?" he asked Sarah.

She looked questioningly at Michael and James who merely nodded reassuringly.

"I just cut myself, I'm not dying!" Michael laughed at her, her expression still full of worry. "And don't worry, I'll try to prevent James from blacking out."

"Hey!" the British protested.

Michael merely laughed, following an amused doctor in the street. Sarah sat back around the table with the three Colonists.

"How is your preparation going on?" Sam asked her. "You're leaving in three days, aren't you?"

Sarah nodded, thanking Kelly as he was bringing her some hot coffee.

"You were supposed to go a long time ago now," Paul added. "February, wasn't it?"

Sarah nodded again.

"We were delayed," she said, her expression quite tensed.

"The German?" Sam asked her.

She nodded.

"But this time we're leaving," she said with more confidence.

She drank up, before looking at Sam, his stare trying to read through her soul.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked her.

Sarah shook her head.

"I've already told you that I won't say anything..."

"You're leaving because something will happen, right?" Sam interrupted her, ignoring her protest. "You're going away because you're scared of something that is going to happen here. That's why you're so eager to go, isn't it? And the German wants to finish his work first, that's why you're always delaying your departure in the end. Am I wrong?"

She stared back intensely at his dark eyes, remaining motionless for a while.

"Am I wrong?" Sam asked again.

"We won't tell anyone," Revere reassured her. "But we need to know if something is coming. We need to know if this is the real reason for your departure."

Sarah merely kept staring at Sam, before heaving a deep sigh.

"Maybe it is..."

"Stop talking in riddles," Sam interrupted her, annoyed.

"Sam..."

"What is going to happen? Why...?"

Sam stared at her, struggling to keep his voice steady. When he spoke again, despite his gritted teeth, his tone sounded more sad than angry.

"Why are you leaving?"

She sighed again, feeling her chest painful at the sound of his tone. Her glance softened and she took a moment to look for the right words.

"No one can know," she requested.

"No one will," Sam promised.

"You know about the troupes that are coming from London," she said slowly.

"Reinforcement, yes," Revere nodded, his tone bitter. "Apparently having a Red Coat at every corner is not enough."

"The General who is coming with the reinforcement is... a threat for us."

"A threat?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, a threat," Sarah nodded. "Gage is not Hutchinson. He's a military man, not a diplomat or a politician. And we are not soldiers."

"You think he could attack you?" asked Kelly, propping up an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

But Sarah nodded again.

"Hutchinson is scared of us. He doesn't understand a thing at what we're doing, and he doesn't dare to threaten us, not physically at least. But Gage is something else entirely."

"But why would he use the force against you? You're not even taking any part in anything that is happening here. Or well, not openly at least," asked Kelly.

"They know what is going to happen," Sam answered in her stead.

Sarah nodded, looking nervous, almost scared by now.

"And I assume that Gage will be ready to do pretty much anything to know the future. Hutchinson was too scared and cautious to be a real threat, but Gage will do anything he might think is necessary to learn what we know. And we can't take the risk to be made prisoners or anything of the kind."

The three men exchanged a glance, nodding. It did explain quite a lot of things indeed...

"And I guess that under the pressure, you would talk to them," Kelly told Sarah slowly.

She snorted wryly.

"Yuri was ready to endanger the timeline and give Hutchinson information in order to have free access to the city, he would not hesitate a second to give Gage whatever he may ask to be safe."

She clenched her jaws, angry now.

"And I don't want to take this risk. It's better if we go before the Red Coats arrive here, before they can force us to talk."

There was a heavy silence between them for a while, before Revere would speak again, his tone kind and soft.

"Thank you, for telling us," he told Sarah.

Sarah merely nodded in response, before standing up.

"I'd better go look for the guys," she said, taking a step towards the front door.

"I'll go with you," Sam said, quickly standing as well. "I need to talk to Warren," he added when he caught the amused smile on his friends' faces.

Sam and Sarah walked out of the inn, remaining silent as they were walking in the dirty street. Above them, the sun was slowly rising in the sky, its light still a bit pale in memory of winter, and yet warm on their skins as spring was slowly covering the world. White clouds were drifting slowly above the rooftops, and the seagulls could be heard even from there, as their loud cries were carried away by the blowing wind. Sarah held her coat a bit closer to her, as the chilly air was blowing suddenly harder. Sam cleared his throat.

"Will you be all ready to leave in three days?" he asked her, trying to sound casual, but his voice was a bit hoarse.

"I hope so. Anyway, even if we're not ready, we'll have to go," she answered in a neutral tone.

"Right..."

They arrived before the doctor's door, and Sam stopped Sarah from entering, holding delicately her wrist as she was advancing her hand towards the doorknob.

"Wait..." he whispered.

Sarah looked up questioningly at him. The feeling of his calloused fingers upon her skin was making her heart race under her ribs.

"I..." Sam stuttered, looking for the right words. "I just wanted to tell you..."

He dived into her deep blue stare, and it seemed to him that he had lost his soul in these two intense orbs. And for a moment, he had to struggle to find back his voice, the intensity in her eyes too great for him to speak, or even think.

"...goodbye."

She flinched.

"I... I don't think I'll be able to come to see you leaving," Sam went on. "I have... things to do that day. So I just wanted to... bid you farewell."

He clenched his jaws tightly, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to blur his vision.

"Oh, of course yes, hmm..." Sarah said slowly, feeling a lump climbing up her throat.

"I don't know if I'll see you again before you go, so..." Sam added.

"Yes, of course. Well... I bid you farewell as well, I guess..."

A deafening silence crept up between them, and they both struggled to keep a composed expression, though in their chests, their hearts were aching.

"I hope your journey back will happen without any problem," Sam told her.

"Thank you," she answered in a shaking voice.

He offered her his open hand, letting go of her wrist, and the wind was feeling so cold upon her skin after Sam's warm fingers.

"Farewell Sarah," Sam told her slowly.

She looked at his hand, before slipping her fingers against his palm. They shook hands, and Sarah looked up at his dark eyes again. They seemed sad, and so big and dark in the sunlight... She couldn't say goodbye with just a shake of his hand...

Before Sam could react, Sarah had wrapped both of her arms around his neck, and was pressing herself to his chest, her face buried in his shoulder.

"I'll miss you, Sam," she whispered against his worn-out coat.

Sam clenched his jaws a bit tighter, closing his eyes, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her delicately against him, as if she was made of glass and he was afraid to break such a fragile thing.

"I'll miss you as well, Sarah," he whispered against her hair.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply in his scent of musk and warm coffee, trying to memorize his perfume for the rest of her life.

"Be careful, take care of yourself," she added. "Don't give up, Sam. Please, don't give up..."

He nodded, and his chin and cheek moved against her hair, making him shiver.

"I won't give up."

After an eternity, she finally pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes again.

"Farewell," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She went on her tiptoe, and kissed softly his cheek. Her smooth lips felt like a warm velvet against his cheek covered with a short beard, after the feeling of the cold breeze. He shuddered, electricity travelling up his spine. When he opened his eyes again, he wanted to tell her everything again. He wanted to tell he was sorry for these three years, sorry for being so stubborn, sorry for having missed three years in her company, that he regretted everything now, that he would sacrifice anything to keep her here just one more day, that he would do anything, anything at all to keep her here... But no word passed his lips, and before he could move a muscle, Sarah had disappeared into Warren's house, leaving him trembling in the freezing wind.

She closed quickly the door behind her, resting her back against the wooden frame, a hand flying up to her mouth. Her whole body was suddenly shaken by a sob.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Warren asked her as he was catching sight of her, looking up from Michael's wounded hand.

She shook her head, and before Warren could move, James had wrapped his arms around her.

"What is it?" he asked her softly.

She closed her eyes, her salty tears wetting James's shoulder.

"I don't want to go back home," she whispered. "I don't want to go, James..."

Her friend heaved a deep sigh.

"I don't want to go," she said again. "I don't want to leave everyone behind, I don't want to give up on everything again..."

"I know, I know, Sarah," James answered in a soothing voice. "But we don't have a choice, we need to go."

She kept sobbing, and Warren took a step towards them, tears shining in his eyes at the sight of the scientist's sorrow. But Michael stopped him, shaking his head. The two men merely looked at Sarah as she was shaking in James's arms, sobbing silently against his shoulder.

She had to lose everything again, just like she had sacrificed everything to come here... But somehow, this time, it was much worse.

* * *

"Fuck!"

Michael cursed for what seemed to be the hundredth time, and he hit the wooden table hard with his clenched fist. They were supposed to depart the next day, and he couldn't repair this bloody battery...

"I can't do this," he sighed, running a hand in his hair in frustration.

"Of course you can," Yuri encouraged him, too desperate to shout at him by now.

"No, I can't. Not in less than twenty-four hours at least, that's for sure."

"How long do you need?"

Michael heaved a deep sigh, sweeping away the sweat that was wetting his brow.

"I don't know..." he answered. "Now that I know what's wrong... I'd need probably a week or so."

Yuri closed his eyes, taking his head in his hands.

"It's okay, we don't need the battery to go home," Sarah said. "And we have already all the data safely recorded, having another backup of our work wouldn't have changed much things anyway. If the first backup is destroyed, then the second will be destroyed as well. And a huge part of our work has already been sent back anyway. It doesn't endanger anything."

She rested her hand on Yuri's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"It will be just fine. It doesn't matter, Yuri. We've already delayed our departure too much. We have to go now."

Yuri nodded, standing up from his wooden chair.

"You're right. I'm sure it will be alright."

He walked out of the room, a reassuring smile still stuck on his face, until he had reached the last room on the right at the end of the corridor. That was where the scientists were putting most of the equipment that they didn't need on a daily basis. Before the Box that would allow them the next day to go back home, Yuri opened the little white chest on the floor. He picked up the radio, and everything that he would need to communicate with his colleagues on the other side of the bridge the next day, a determined expression painted on his face. Without the battery, he couldn't secure the last data. But more importantly, on a more personal point of view, he couldn't finish his calculations, he couldn't finish to run his last tests, he couldn't finish his work, not at all. They would have needed years still to finish their works properly, but now he couldn't even finish what he was doing at the moment, what he had been doing for months...

And sometimes in life, risks had to be taken.

* * *

John was worried. He was staring at his cousin, sitting gloomily in front of him, playing with his piece of pie without eating a single bite. He exchanged a glance with his wife, who merely shrugged. John Adams heaved a deep sigh.

"Sam, you have to eat something," John told his cousin.

"It's your favourite," Abigail encouraged him as well.

Sam gave the couple a sad smile.

"I know, and I'm sure your pie is as delicious as it always is, Abby," he said slowly, still twirling absentmindedly his fork into the meat. "But I'm really not hungry."

Abigail heaved sigh, before rising from her seat, taking the full plate from Sam.

"Why are you so upset?" John asked him.

"I'm not upset about anything," Sam answered, though even he could not believe in his lie.

"Yes, you are, Sam."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Does it have anything to do with the Tea Act again?"

"No, it's not that. It has nothing to do with this."

"What is it then?"

"John, I've told you already... I don't want to talk about it."

There was a heavy silence for a while, during which Abigail came back next to her husband. John was looking for a way to bring up the subject in a relatively delicate way...

"Will you spend the night here?" he asked his cousin, taking a gulp of red wine.

Sam nodded.

"If it doesn't bother you too much, of course," Sam added.

"It's alright. You can stay, if you wish to."

"Thanks."

"But... I thought you would like to be back in town early," John said cautiously.

"Why that?"

"The scientists are departing tomorrow, aren't they?"

Sam froze.

"And?" he asked slowly, his voice defensive. "What does that have anything to do with me?"

"I don't know, I just thought you would like to bid them farewell," John answered, shrugging.

"I've already bidden them farewell," Sam answered.

"Good. I just thought you would like to see them leaving..."

"I don't want to see them leaving."

"Are you sure?"

"Why do you find this so interesting anyway?"

John shook slowly his head, ready to give up. But Abigail was not done with the topic yet. And she didn't intend to be as delicate as her husband.

"It's because of her, isn't it?" she asked him bluntly.

She ignored the reprobating glare of her husband, and merely stared at Sam, who looked warily at her.

"Because of whom?" he asked, faking ignorance.

"The scientist," Abigail answered. "Sarah Hugo."

Sam flinched, but didn't answer anything.

"I knew it was," Abigail said, her voice almost sad.

"It has nothing to do with her," Sam finally defended himself.

"It has," she replied firmly. "I know it's because of her. You don't want to see her leaving, that's why you're not going in town tomorrow."

"You're wrong."

"No, I'm not. I know you, Sam. You don't want to see her leaving, you don't want to face the fact that tomorrow... you'll lose her forever."

Sam clenched his jaws, looking down at his knees, tears blurring his vision, and he hated himself for reacting this way.

"You don't want to lose her like you've lost Elizabeth..."

Sam raised up his hand, shushing her silently.

"It's not at all the same thing this time," Sam told her.

"You're going to lose her, and there's nothing you can do. No matter how hard you think, or how drunk you are, or if you're starving yourself out, or if you're destroying everything around you... There's nothing you can do to make her stay."

"You don't know anything about what you're saying."

Sam stood up, and headed towards the stairs to reach his bedroom. But Abigail held him back, forcing him to look at her again.

"You will regret it, if you miss your last chance to see her," she told him, her voice softer, a sad expression in her eyes. "You will regret it forever if you choose to stay here tomorrow, instead of seeing her one last time."

Sam didn't move, nor answered, and they both remained perfectly still and silent for a while.

"And you know perfectly I'm right," Abby added.

Sam didn't say anything, and merely freed himself softly from Abigail's grasp, before climbing up the stairs towards his room.

He couldn't see her leaving, he just couldn't. He didn't have the strength to see her closing the door of this white box, and disappear in the bridge, never to return again. He didn't have the strength to see her leaving forever, without any chance for him to convince her to stay, nor to prevent her from going away. He would never convince her to stay, whatever he may tell her... And yet, he was so desperate to see her, just one last time. The thought that he was going to let slip between his fingers his only chance to ever see her face again was unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes he could see stuck upon his eyelids her deep blue eyes staring at him, and her so smooth lips, and her wild dark hair moving with the breeze, and her graceful cheekbones, and... everything. Every single detail of her beautiful face had been memorized and appeared vividly before him upon his closed eyelids. And he couldn't bare the idea that this image of her smiling in the wind of the sea, with the sun shining on her hair, this image he had perhaps engraved somehow in his memory, or maybe invented out of several memories of her, he couldn't tell, was the only thing he would keep from her. That this image was everything he had of her, that this image, that maybe was not even real but had been created by his own mind, was the last image of her he would see. He needed to see her one last time, despite how painful it would be to see her going away, never to return... he just _had_ to see her one last time.

He didn't like to admit it, but Abigail and John were right.

* * *

Warren looked at the scientists as they were walking out of their house and into the square. Sarah seemed sad despite the confident look on her face, clearly she was trying to control her emotions. She smiled at Warren and his friends as she was catching sight of them throughout the crowd that had gathered to see the scientists go. Yuri whispered something in her ear, and she looked questioningly at him. The German scientist merely nodded in response, and Sarah, James and Michael walked towards the Colonists.

"Aren't you supposed to get ready?" Paul asked them in a sad smile.

"Yuri will take care of it, apparently," Michael answered in a shrug. "Guess he's finally doing something kind, that's new."

"We'll miss you," Joseph told them, his eyes wet with tears.

"We'll miss you all as well," James answered with a sad smile, patting the doctor's shoulder.

They shook hands, except for Sarah, who hugged the three colonists. Kelly couldn't help but chuckle as she was wrapping her arms around his neck.

A few meters away, John Hancock was looking at them. Sarah walked towards him as well.

"Mr. Hancock, thank you, for everything," she told him.

"The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Hugo," Hancock answered, his voice made hoarse by his tight throat.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you as well. I hope your journey will be safe."

She hugged him, just like she had hugged the others. But she had one last advice to give him before finally letting go.

"You're stronger than you think, Mr. Hancock. And you're much more generous than you let everyone see. Don't underestimate yourself."

She smiled at him, and he nodded, though he couldn't understand the meaning of her words for now. But somehow, he knew that one day, he would understand what she meant, and would remember her words.

The three friends walked back towards the middle of the square, where the bridge was already opened. The departure would happen in several phases, and first, they needed to send their results, before starting to send back their equipment, and finally to go themselves. But Sarah froze as she was walking with James and Michael, and she turned towards Warren again.

A single word, just one advice could save his life...

But Michael rested his hand on her shoulder.

"We can't change the past, Sarah," he told her softly, guessing her thought.

She nodded, before following him.

She didn't see in the back of the crowd Sam's stern figure staring at her as she was walking away, her back to him. He clenched his jaws, looking at her getting closer to the bridge, talking with her colleagues, her expression calm despite her evident sadness. He refrained his urge to walk towards her, and to beg her not to go. He had so many things to tell her, and yet he knew none of these words would ever pass his lips now.

The data were sent through the wormhole, and the bridge disappeared. The bridge would open again one minute later, it had already been settled. And so they waited.

But after a minute, nothing happened.

And then after two minutes, there was still nothing.

And five minutes flew by, and there was still no bridge.

"What is going on?" Hutchinson asked them, taking one step towards them.

"I don't know," Michal admitted, before turning towards Sarah. "Do you think there's a problem at the LHC?"

"They would have warned us when they opened it the first time if there had been a risk of malfunction. And we've done this enough times to know if it's going to work or not," Sarah answered, shaking her head. "There's something else, something wrong..."

"Actually," Yuri said slowly. "The bridge is not going to open again today."

"What?!" James exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"It's not opening again," Yuri repeated, pointing at the void before them. "You can see it."

"What makes you think that they're not going to open it at all _today_?" Michael asked him, frowning hard.

Sarah finally noticed the devices they used to communicate with the future, right there, next to Yuri. Her cheeks reddened fiercely.

"Yuri, what the hell did you do?" she asked, furious.

"Nothing," he lied.

"Don't take me for an idiot!" she snapped, raising her voice. "What did you do again?!"

"Sarah, calm down..."

"You did this, didn't you?"

"What did he do?" James asked her, frowning hard.

"He told them not to open the bridge again!" she cried.

There was a deadly silence throughout the square.

"Of course he didn't," Yoko shook his head.

"Yes, he did! Look, he has brought everything he needs to communicate!" Sarah replied, pointing at the box next to Yuri.

The German didn't say a word, merely staring back at her. Sarah walked slowly towards him.

"You did this!" she repeated angrily through gritted teeth.

"You're overreacting, Sarah," Yuri told her calmly. "We just need a few more weeks to be done here, it doesn't change anything."

She shook her head, her jaws and fists clenched, her knuckles white.

"You'll thank me for this," Yuri went on. "I knew you wouldn't agree, so I didn't tell you anything, but trust me you'll thank me for this. We haven't been able to secure the data the proper way, we haven't finished all our measurements and research, we have merely scratched the surface, nothing more. We need more time."

Sarah stopped before him, staring at him coldly, her eyes shining with wrath, looking darker than usual, like a storm on the infinite sea.

Before anyone could react, her clenched fist had flown right into Yuri's nose, breaking it instantly, blood already flowing down his face. She turned around before he could react, as he was still struggling to keep his balance. She ran away and disappeared in an adjacent street, and when James and Michael finally understood what had happened and reacted, she had already disappeared.

* * *

Somehow, he knew where to find her. Everyone was looking for her after what had happened in the square. He had to admit that she had a very good punch, and Sam couldn't refrain a smile at the thought. Everyone was looking for Sarah, and she wasn't at the harbour, nor at their house, nor at the Green Dragon... There was only place she could be.

Sam entered the cemetery, looking for the scientist throughout the alleys. He knew where to go, he went there from time to time himself, when he needed a reminder of what he was fighting for. And indeed, there she was, sitting in the grass, staring blankly at the grave. He walked behind her, standing still in the blowing wind, reading the little letters just like she was doing.

 _Christopher Seider_

"I didn't think anyone would find me here," she said suddenly.

Her soft voice sounded almost like a shout through the wind in the silent graveyard.

"Clearly you underestimated me," Sam answered in a small smile.

She smiled as well, and he sat next to her on the grass.

"How are you?" he asked her after a long silence.

"Not well, obviously," she answered slowly.

"At least the German will remember it... Or well, his nose will remember it. That was a good punch."

She smiled.

"Thanks, told you it was useful to hang around with Michael in bars."

He let out a small laugh, before turning towards her again, his glance more serious once more.

"So... you're not leaving, are you?"

"Apparently, not."

She seemed desperate again, and Sam felt his heart ache behind his ribs. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go home, she didn't want to stay here...

"I'm sure you'll soon go home, don't worry," he tried to reassure her.

Luckily, she didn't notice the bitterness in his tone. She remained motionless, staring at the cold stone before them.

"I'm sure you'll soon find a way to go home," he repeated. "You'll soon go, and have your life back. See your friends, and your family..."

He clenched his jaws, and she turned her blue stare slowly towards his dark glance.

"I'm not homesick," she answered slowly. "I'm... I'm just scared."

"You're not homesick?" Sam asked her, surprised. "But you've been gone for years..."

Sarah merely shrugged.

"The two people I love the most came with me here, I don't have any family left there... Sure, I miss a few friends from time to time but... I'm used to it by now and... I don't know, I just like this place."

She looked up at the church beyond the cemetery, her glance slowly drifting up towards the immaculate sky.

"I don't want to go," she said slowly. "It feels like home here."

Sam stared at her, motionless, unable to answer.

"But I'm scared of what could happen with Gage," she told him, still staring up at the blue sky. "I'm terrified of what Yuri could do, of what Gage could do to us..."

"This Gage sounds like a very dangerous man," Sam noted.

"He is," Sarah nodded.

She looked at Sam again.

"What if we change something? What if one of us tells Gage something he's not supposed to know? What if we change the future? What if innocents are killed because we talked?"

A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn't sweep it away.

"We can't defend ourselves, not against an army," she went on, her voice shaking. "He could do anything... What if Yuri talks? What if he hurts us?"

"No one will hurt you," Sam interrupted her.

"You don't know..."

"I won't let them hurt you."

They stared at each other for a moment, before Sarah would shake slowly her head.

"You can't protect us," she whispered. "No one can. And I won't let you endanger yourself for us..."

"I won't let you get hurt," Sam stated, his voice sounding like a vow.

"Nor you, nor any of your men can be hurt because of us," she replied, her voice firmer again. "We're not even supposed to be here, but _you_ have a role to play in History... If something happens to you, or to one of your men, it will change everything."

She shook her head again.

"We'll be just fine. And we won't let you get in trouble for us."

A small smile appeared slowly on her sad face.

"You know, my grandfather used to say that when the night falls, it doesn't mean that the sun is disappearing, merely that it is rising for someone else. It doesn't mean that it is leaving the world, merely that it will take a moment to come back to us, after it has shed some light upon the life of others. Things always get better in the end, no matter how bad the situation we're in is."

She smiled reassuringly.

"We'll be just fine," she said again, trying to convince herself as much she was trying to convince him.

They stared at each other for a while, wrapped in a heavy silence. Sam slowly raised his hand to her face, and he cupped her cheek in his palm, his fingertips lost in her dark hair. His heart was beating so fast...

"I won't let you get hurt," he repeated again.

He let his hand drop, and stood up, turning towards the exit again.

"You'd better go back to the house, everyone is worried about you."

She looked at him disappearing between the graves, his long coat floating in the wind, as she was remaining there, motionless, before Christopher's grave.


	11. The Coming Of The Storm

**Time for Gage to arrive... I hope you like this new chapter.**

 **Three scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **Thank you so much for your review GreTheresa, you're the best ;)**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this chapter. Don't forget to review :)**

* * *

 **The Coming Of The Storm**

Eventually, Sarah went back to the house. She had delayed as long as she could the inevitable moment when she would have to see her colleagues, and she had remained sitting in the cold before Christopher's grave long after Sam had departed. But now she had to see Yuri.

The second she set a foot in the hall of their house, Yuri was storming in the room, furious, his nose dark, though he wasn't bleeding anymore. A long bandage was covering his nose and a part of his cheeks. His eyes were shining with anger.

"What the HELL was that?!" he bellowed.

Sarah merely walked in, taking off her coat and shoes, and walking in the living room, where the rest of her colleagues were already gathered.

"Sarah, you're okay?" Michael asked her, hurrying towards her, James by his side.

"Where were you?" James asked her, worry still painted all over his face.

"I'm fine, don't worry," Sarah reassured her friends.

"You punched me!" Yuri howled behind her, walking into the room as well. "I'm your boss, remember? You punched me in the face!"

"Clearly I didn't hit you hard enough to shut you up, though," Sarah snapped coldly.

Everyone in the room froze.

"How dare you speak to me like this?" Yuri asked, his voice shaking with anger, his jaws and fists clenched.

"How dare you lie to us all? How dare you keep us here against our will?" Sarah snapped back.

"You're overreacting."

"No, I'm not! We were supposed to go home today. You swore we were going back. I should have never trusted you on this. I should have made all the preparations myself, at least we would be far away by now..."

"We need only a few weeks more to finish what we are doing here," Yuri replied, trying to lower his voice to make her calm down.

But she didn't calm down at all.

"You don't measure the danger we're in right now!" she cried.

"You're just being pessimistic."

"I should have planned everything myself, from A to Z, and never trusted you to do a single thing. It's crazy how I can't count on you to do _anything_ right!"

"You're going too far! _I_ am the chief here, remember?"

"You're not my boss Yuri," Sarah replied, loathing covering her graceful face. "You're nothing but a liar and a thief."

She walked out of the room, and up the stairs, hurrying in her bedroom. Yuri remained standing still, as his colleagues were leaving the room as well. Yuri merely kept staring at the door behind which Sarah had disappeared, and his chest was so painful for a moment, that he rested his hand upon his heart.

He wondered if she knew what her words were doing to him. He wondered if she had any idea of what he saw in her, if she was acting like this just because she was being cruel, or if she just didn't know that his heart was racing every time he saw her face, and his stomach was doing crazy flip-flops whenever he heard her voice, and his lips curved into a smile when he heard her laugh, and...

He shook himself. Sarah was not cruel, she simply hadn't realized yet how he felt. But one day... one day she would understand.

* * *

 _Boston, Massachusetts._

 _May 13, 1774_

" _How long does it take to disembark a damn ship?_ "

Governor Hutchinson picked up a glass of red wine on the little table next to him, and drank up a gulp of wine. May was particularly warm that year, and even if he was protected from the sun under the little tent his men had built in the square for him, he was sweating profusely, struggling in the heat. He couldn't imagine the temperatures that would be reached in a month or two. He took a look at the scientists standing behind him, waiting patiently. He wondered why the French had been so upset about the coming of General Gage, surely he couldn't be that terrible. Probably a stern and narrow-minded soldier, nothing more. And perhaps he could turn the arrival of the General into an advantage.

" _Still, could be good for us,_ " Hutchinson went on, talking to his aide again. " _Just what we need..._ "

Behind him Sarah, Michael and John exchanged a glance. If only the Governor knew what was coming...

Suddenly, the square was filled with the thud noise of drums, and the British soldiers appeared at the end of the square. As she was looking at the Red Coats taking their positions, she spotted Sam, Paul, Warren and Kelly in the crowd, watching the march as well. They exchanged a smile, before focusing on the major who was shouting orders at his men, guiding them throughout the square. And then Gage arrived. All dressed up in his uniform, his frozen stare stern and merciless, his squared jaws set, he was sitting very straight on his horse as he was riding throughout the square, his men making way before him, to reach the Governor's tent. Hutchinson stood up at his coming.

Even through the crowd, Sam could notice Sarah's tensed expression, her blue eyes darker all of a sudden.

Gage dismounted, and saluted his men, before turning his attention towards the Governor, his steel-like stare piercing him to his soul. Hutchinson immediately offered him a seat.

" _General Gage. Welcome back,_ " the Governor greeted Gage. " _I'm Governor..._ "

He was interrupted by the Major Pitcairn, as he was giving his men one last order. Though he was annoyed, Hutchinson went on, his voice still perfectly calm. Behind him, Sarah's hands were growing moister and moister every second. She couldn't help but think that Gage's stern figure, with his impeccable uniform, and his eyes cold as stone was exactly what she had imagined of him, and the thought made her shiver with fear.

" _I'm Governor Thomas Hutchinson._ "

Hutchinson and Gage shook hands.

" _I've heard much about you,_ " the General told him.

His voice was slow, and quite posh, with a frozen tone that was both impersonal and terribly frightening. He seemed to speak in permanence in a threatening tone, that sounded like the most polite voice in the world. The combination of the two intonations that his voice was taking simultaneously seemed to induce a particular aura around him, a charisma that drew the attention of all to him, though this charisma seemed terrible, and everyone was feeling quite uneasy in his presence.

" _And I you,_ " Hutchinson answered politely, before offering the military man some tea.

Gage took the cup Hutchinson's aide was offering him, a polite and yet annoyed smile on his thin lips.

" _Well, good..._ " the Governor started clumsily as Gage was remaining silent for a few seconds. " _We could certainly do with your help._ "

" _So it seems..._ " Gage answered coldly.

Behind them, an elegant young woman appeared, guided by two Red Coats throughout the square. Sarah assumed it was Gage's wife. Her blond hair was glimmering in the sun, and she seemed perfectly at ease in her heavy yellow dress, the same kind that Sarah found particularly uncomfortable. The square was shaken with whispers as Mrs. Gage was passing by. But the General didn't seem to take any care of her presence behind him, and merely spoke coldly to Hutchinson again.

" _Mr. Hutchinson, I have a great deal of work to do very quickly and I'd just as soon get to it._ "

He turned towards the six scientists who were still standing motionless behind Hutchinson and his aide.

"I guess you must be the scientists I have heard so many things about," he said, his voice a bit softer, though still terribly cold.

"We are," Yuri answered, shaking the hand Gage was offering him. "I am Dr. Yuri Einbrecher, the chief of our team."

"I am most pleased to meet you."

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, General."

"I believe we will do great things together."

Sarah's heart stopped, a frozen shiver running up her spine.

"I am sure we will," Yuri answered.

Gage took a closer look at Yuri's five colleagues, and his eyes lingered on Sarah, glancing at her brown trousers and high boots. He seemed to bite his tongue, and turned his attention towards Yuri again.

"The King hopes everything here has been done to make your work as easy as possible."

"Governor Hutchinson has been more than generous and kind to us, and we shall soon go home," Yuri answered.

Gage nodded slowly, but a strange glint was alit in his eyes all of a sudden, and Sarah didn't like it at all.

"Good," the General answered slowly. "I am sure the King will be very pleased when he hears Mr. Hutchinson's report in London."

" _But..._ " Hutchinson said bluntly, drawing the attention back to him. " _I do beg your pardon? London?_ "

The poor man seemed completely lost, a terrified expression drowning his gaze, and Sarah felt sorry for him.

" _King George is quite interested to hear your report,_ " Gage answered, his perfectly neutral voice betraying his lack of compassion. " _I'll have some of my aides to help you transport your things to the ship._ "

Gage handed Hutchinson an official missive, and the Governor read the note, his expression growing a bit more bitter at every word that was passing before his eyes. He finally snickered nervously, as he was somewhere between anger and desperation.

" _I have... arrangements to make,_ " he protested weakly. " _Things to..._ "

" _Your service as Governor has concluded,_ " Gage interrupted him.

" _Wha...?_ "

Hutchinson let out a breathy, wry laugh. He looked angrily at Gage, and his voice betrayed his bitterness.

" _Good luck._ "

Pitcairn made a movement to guide him towards the harbour.

" _This way, please,_ " the Major instructed him.

But the Governor had no intention in being merely thrown in a boat like a mere criminal. He shook his head, standing very straight, and stopped right before Pitcairn, so that the Major was blocking his way towards the square.

" _Make way, please,_ " Hutchinson ordered.

" _My pleasure,_ " Pitcairn answered, taking a step back to let the Governor and his aide walk towards the harbour.

His head high despite the circumstances, Hutchinson walked towards the harbour along with his aide, before the surprised eyes of the crowd. Gage turned towards Yuri and his colleagues again.

"Doctor, I would be more than curious to see your equipment. Your research seem very interesting indeed," Gage told the scientist, his voice poisoned honey. "I hope it will not bother you to show me a bit of your work."

"Of course not," Yuri answered, clearly flattered by the General's wish. "I'll be honoured to show you our little house."

"Good. I shall come later today. I have to help my wife to our new home first."

"Of course. We'll be waiting for you."

The scientists took their leave, disappearing in the crowd. In the distance, Hutchinson and his aide had almost reached the end of the square.

" _You were a little harsh with that poor man,_ " Gage's wife told her husband, her stare fixed on Hutchinson's back.

" _And what business is that of yours?_ " Gage asked her.

Margaret Gage sighed.

" _You should be happy to be here in your homeland,_ " Gage told his wife in a softer voice.

" _I do as my King commands,_ " she answered cautiously.

" _And your husband?_ "

" _I do as he commands as well._ "

She hoped he hadn't noticed how much she had forced the words to come out of her mouth. But by the look of the small smile on his face, he hadn't noticed anything.

Gage offered her his arm.

" _Let me take you to your new home._ "

And the couple walked towards the Governor's house.

In the distance, Sam looked at Gage and his wife walking away, a terrible feeling tightening his stomach.

"I have a bad feeling about him," Sam told his friends, his dark stare still fixed on the General.

"And you are right to feel this way."

Sam spun around, recognizing the voice behind him. He smiled, and shook hands with Ben Franklin.

"You're back!" Warren exclaimed, shaking happily the elder man's hand.

"Yes, I am," Franklin smiled. "I thought I could be useful here, with the Red Coats around."

"How did it go in London?" Revere asked him.

"Not very well, as you can see," Franklin answered with a sad smile. "Let's not talk about all this here though. And I'd very much like to go say hello to Sarah, Michael and James."

"I'm sure they'll come to the Green Dragon tonight anyway," Kelly told him.

Franklin propped an eyebrow.

"Really? Things are finally getting better between you all? I am definitely glad to hear it."

"A few things have changed these past few weeks here indeed, Dr. Franklin," Warren told him, an amused smile on his lips as he was glancing over Sam discreetly.

Franklin smiled as well.

"Well, I can't wait to hear everything I've missed. Come on, the first round is on me. Tell me everything."

And towards the Green Dragon they walked, laughing despite the cloud that was now drifting above their heads, and that they had chosen to ignore for now.

* * *

Ben Franklin hurried out of the inn, Sam, Revere, Warren and Kelly on his heels. Amos had run in the Green Dragon seconds before to warn them that Gage was on his way to the scientists' house. And after having seen the look of worry and fear in Sarah's eyes at the mere mention of Gage's name, none of them had a good feeling about his little visit to the scientists.

"You'd better wait outside," Franklin advised his friends as they were hurrying through the square. "It would be quite unfortunate that Gage writes your names down on his list of enemies the very day of his arrival at Boston, don't you think?"

Sam nodded. Just as they were reaching the house, Hancock appeared by their side, looking worried as well.

"What do you want, Hancock?" Sam asked him, his voice quite aggressive.

The businessman glowered at him.

"I've heard Gage was on his way here."

"So you came to make a good impression on our new Governor?" Kelly asked him, his voice shaking with anger as well.

"I came to warn Sarah and her friends," Hancock replied.

" _Sarah?_ "

Sam's voice was shaking, and if a glare could have killed, Hancock would have died on the spot.

"You're not the only one who is her friend," the merchant answered innocently. "And I reckon _I_ am to be called her friend more than you, as _I_ didn't stop talking to her for three years."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but the door before them opened suddenly... on Sarah.

"Gentlemen," she greeted them.

A grin formed on her smile at the sight of Franklin.

"Dr. Franklin!" she cried, making him laugh as she hugged him. "Why did you not tell us you were back?"

"I'm afraid I departed in quite a hurry," he answered. "I'm glad to see you again, my friend."

"I'm so glad you're here!"

"Actually, we came for a quite important matter."

She finally let go of the elder man, looking questioningly at him.

"Gage is coming here," Sam warned her. "He wants to search your house. I don't know what he's looking for but..."

She let out a wry snort.

"He's coming to look for any kind of weapon we could have in our possession, that's why he's coming."

"You knew he was coming?" Hancock asked her, surprised.

Sarah nodded.

"He told us he would come later today when he arrived."

"And... Do you have weapons?" Kelly asked her slowly.

"No, we don't," Sarah reassured him. "Though it would have most definitely been useful right now."

The men frowned, and Warren opened his mouth to ask Sarah what she meant, when the sound of hoofs hitting the pavement resonated throughout the square.

"You'd better go," she told them. "It's kind to have come, but you can't get in trouble, not because of us."

"But..." Sam tried to object.

But Sarah shushed him with a shake of her head.

"You must go. Now."

She turned around, walking in the house again. Franklin turned towards the Colonists by his side.

"Let's go to my house," he said. "We'll keep an eye on them."

And they walked in the adjacent house, that had been prepared for Franklin's arrival. When he saw the boxes of English tea on the shelf, Franklin winced, and threw them into the bin, making his friends smile. Sam and Hancock kept glaring at each other, but didn't speak together again.

And for a long time they waited, silent, listening closely to the sounds that came to them from the street. Finally, they heard the sound of a door opening, and voices talking on the threshold. They all got closer to the window, opening it slightly to listen discreetly to the conversation.

"I am glad to see that the fear of our King concerning weaponry was not necessary," Gage said in his usual calm and cold tone.

The Colonists exchanged a glance. Sarah had been right, Gage had been looking for weapons.

"We are only scientists, General," Yuri told Gage. "You have nothing to fear from us."

"I hope so," Gage answered politely. "By the way, I wish to have a private interview with all the members of your team, Dr. Einbrecher."

"What for?"

Sam's breathing sped up as he was recognizing Sarah's voice.

"I merely wish to have a little talk with you," Gage answered slowly. "Ask you a few questions."

"We've already stated, General, that we are not going to tell you anything that may endanger the timeline. Which means that we're not going to tell you what is going to happen."

"Dr. Hugo," Gage said slowly, "it would not be very wise to go against the commands of the King who is welcoming you in his Kingdom, especially when you have no weapons."

"Is that a threat, General?"

Before anyone could react, Sam had stormed out of the room, and into the street. His friends followed him quickly out of the house, but Hancock remained behind, merely watching the scene from behind the curtains of Franklin's window. Gage and his men, along with the scientists, turned towards the newcomers. Pitcairn took a step towards them.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked the Colonists, his hand suddenly resting upon the butt of his pistol.

Sam merely stared intensely at him, a defiant glint burning in his dark eyes.

"I don't know," Revere answered, staring intensely at the Major as well. "Is there a problem?"

Sarah turned towards Gage again. She had to end this conversation before the situation turned ill.

"Well, General... I'm afraid the King knew all along that we were not to reveal anything about the future to him. And you're right, it would not be wise to bring on ourselves the wrath of someone powerful if we're not armed. But I'm not sure it would be particularly wise of you to threaten us either."

She took a step closer to him, still speaking in a calm, and yet firm tone.

"Do you really think that our friends in the future will not react if we are in any kind of danger? And do you really think that in more than two hundred years we haven't found any weapon more efficient than a musket?"

Gage clenched his jaws.

"You should not threaten me," he warned her through gritted teeth, his eyes glimmering with hate.

"And you should not threaten us either," Sarah replied, doing her best to seem unimpressed, though Gage's stare was making him shiver. "We won't be here for long now, three weeks at the most. It's your choice to make, we can either spend these three weeks in peace and tranquillity, or the next time the bridge opens, it will be upon an army."

Gage merely walked away, followed by his men, and disappeared around the corner of the square. Sarah heaved a deep sigh.

"That's what I call a bluff," Michael breathed, patting her shoulder.

"Don't mention it," she mumbled.

Sam put his hand on her shoulder, making her turn towards him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Sarah nodded.

"We have to go in three weeks, it's our last chance."

She turned towards Yuri, furious again.

"Now, do you understand why I wanted to go back before Gage arrived?" she asked him bitterly.

Yuri nodded slowly, admitting his guilt.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized..."

"Shut up!" she ordered.

She turned back towards the Colonists. Hancock finally walked out of Franklin's house, and positioned himself near Ben Franklin.

"I need a drink," Sarah stated.

Her friends smiled. She patted Hancock's shoulder, silently thanking him for his help, and he nodded at her in response. As Sarah and her friends were walking through the square towards the Green Dragon, Sam stared at Hancock, who headed towards his carriage to go home, and his dark stare was full of suspicion.

None of them had noticed the two men, but Gage and Pitcairn were looking carefully at the scene.

"One of them must be this... Samuel Adams that Hutchinson was talking so much about," Gage told Pitcairn. "Try to buy him out. We'll see how we deal with him if he refuses, though I don't think a thug of his kind could ever say no to a few shillings."

"I think one of them is rich," Pitcairn added. "I can't remember his name though, but I think he's a merchant."

Gage nodded slowly.

"Let's take care of Adams first."

He tore his stare of steel away from the square, and looked at his Major instead.

"It's time we teach Boston a lesson."

* * *

The days that followed were dark indeed. The Red Coats had full power in the City, and many men were arrested, houses were taken away from their owners and used by the Red Coats for the officers, occupied without the permission of anyone but the General, in the name of the desperate measures taken by the King to secure Boston and assure the safety of its inhabitants. In the Green Dragon that night, once shadows had fallen upon the world and the light of the sun had disappeared long ago beyond the horizon in the west, the mood of the Colonists and their three friends from the future was everything but merry.

"I hadn't heard about the clerk house being taken," Sarah told Warren. "Though we had learnt for the port."

"Nothing comes in, nothing comes out," Michael nodded. "We heard as we were coming here this evening."

"I can't believe they have the right to do all this," James breathed.

He pushed away the plate of cheese and bread before him, as he was not hungry anymore. Around the table, Warren, Sam, Revere, Franklin and the three scientists were still discussing of the events of these past few days. And the more time passed, the more it seemed that the situation would not improve before a long time.

"I've never envied you so much," Revere told the scientists. "Only two weeks left, and you'll be rid of all this mess."

"Clearly the future has at least one advantage," Michael smiled.

Franklin let out a small laugh, whilst the others were smiling.

Right at this moment, the door of the inn was opened wide. The terrible heat from the outside came rushing into the room, and all the stares turned towards the door, as the sound of heavy boots was echoing throughout the inn.

Pitcairn and his men entered the room.

The Major, surrounded by his men as if he needed an escort in such a horrid place, seemed to look for something across the room...

...Or rather someone.

Everyone was staring at the soldiers by now, and Sam and his friends walked out of the corner where they had been sitting, and got a bit closer.

" _Mr. Adams_ ," Pitcairn said as he was spotting Sam in the crowd. " _You are the famous Samuel Adams, are you not?_ "

" _Is there a problem?_ " Revere asked Pitcairn, his voice deadly cold.

" _There's no problem,_ " the officer answered calmly.

" _Well, that is very good to know,_ " Kelly told him, standing up from the wooden table he was sitting upon, only a few tables away from Pitcairn.

He pointed at the door with his knife.

" _You boys can leave,_ " Kelly told Pitcairn and his men, his voice sounding almost menacing.

Pitcairn merely ignored him, and turned towards Sam again.

" _The General understands your...concern during this delicate transition,_ " Pitcairn said in his most polite tone. " _And as a gesture of good faith, he asked that I'd cover your tab for the evening. Everyone's tab, in fact._ "

He let an impressive number of golden coins fall upon the nearest table, looking at the men in the room. He turned towards Sam again, and offered him a beer.

" _I only ask for a moment of your time. In private._ "

Sam shrugged, though his dark glance was still so intensely fixed upon Pitcairn that it seemed that Sam wanted to read through the officer's soul.

" _I suppose I can talk for a moment,_ " Sam answered.

He made a movement towards the Red Coats, but Sarah put a hand on his arm, preventing him to walk further.

"Be careful," she warned him.

He stared at her infinite blue eyes for a moment, before smiling reassuringly.

"Don't worry, I can handle him," he told her.

He walked with Pitcairn in an adjacent room, taking the beer the officer was offering him. The Major sat down at the table, but Sam remained standing before the hearth, watching the dancing flames flying up towards the roof, before disappearing into the void. Pitcairn took off his hat, and put it down on the table.

" _Alright..._ " Sam said after a quite long silence, and he turned around to face the officer again. " _What the hell is all this?_ "

Pitcairn seemed amused by the bluntness of Sam's question.

" _General Gage hopes that you and he can come to an understanding,_ " the Major answered.

" _An understanding?_ " Sam repeated, quite surprised.

" _Yes, he thinks that_ you _are a practical man._ "

Pitcairn offered a leathery purse to Sam. It was full of golden coins, and they rang and clinked as they were put on the table.

" _To be fully honest, I don't much care about what he thinks,_ " Sam answered, a defiant glint alit once more in his dark eyes, and he put his pint on the table, without having drank a single drop out of it.

" _I strongly suggest you take this,_ " Pitcairn advised him, pushing the money a bit closer to Sam. " _An offer that you frankly don't deserve, and one that you would be foolish to reject. I'm telling you now that General Gage is_ not _Thomas Hutchinson._ "

Sam picked up the leathery bag from the table, and tried to evaluate the value of all the money it was holding in.

" _Must be over a hundred shillings in here,_ " he said, staring at the money in his hand.

" _Well, two hundreds, in fact,_ " Pitcairn replied, as he was standing up, and taking back his hat. " _And this is only the beginning._ "

He started to walk back towards the door, but Sam stopped him in his tracks, speaking again in a firm and challenging voice.

" _Tell General Gage I send my regards._ "

He threw the money back to Pitcairn, picked up the officer's pint, and sat down.

" _Cheers,_ " Sam said, before drinking up.

Fuming, Pitcairn turned back towards his men.

" _Move!_ " he ordered, heading for the front door of the inn.

Soon, he and his men had disappeared in the street.

Sarah and her friends walked in the room where Sam was still sitting on his own.

"What did he want?" Sarah asked him.

"Buy me out," Sam answered calmly, throwing the pint on the table.

"How much did he offer?" Franklin asked him.

"Two hundreds, as a first gift."

"That's way more than you're worth," Warren replied, sitting down next to Sam.

The two men exchanged a smile.

"And what did you tell him?" Revere asked.

"No," Sam merely answered.

Sarah smiled.

"What do you not understand in the terms 'be careful'?" she asked him, amused.

"I was careful with him," Sam replied. "Doesn't mean he can buy me out. After all, he and his men walked out of her in one piece."

"But I'm pretty sure you pissed him off before letting him go. And _that's_ not careful."

Sam smiled.

"This guy has no humour, it's not my fault."

Sarah laughed, and it sounded like a ray of sunshine.

"Well, I'd pay to see Gage's face right now," Revere said, drinking up a gulp of beer, laughing as well.

* * *

General Gage was sitting on his couch, in the Governor's house, staring at the dancing flames in the fire under his mantelpiece, that were painting crazy forms all around him.

Pitcairn entered, and bent before the General.

" _Sir,_ " Pitcairn saluted Gage.

" _Well?_ " Gage merely asked.

" _He wasn't interested._ "

" _Hmmm..._ "

Gage remained silent for a moment, still staring at the flames, lost in thoughts.

" _So, arrest him?_ " Pitcairn asked.

" _No,_ " Gage merely answered.

Indeed, he had a much better idea. Arresting Adams was useless, he was merely a thug, a cutthroat. Adams wasn't important. He had some nerves, Gage could give him that. But nerves were easy to quash and crush and turn into obedience. And Gage didn't need Adams' help to make the entire people of Boston yield to his will. Adams, like the rest of the City, would learn what came with treason and rebellion under his command. For Gage had learnt long ago the only remedy against mutiny: fear.


	12. Martyrs, Examples and Enemies

**Here comes a new chapter, hope you like it!**

 **One scene was taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this chapter. Don't forget to review :)**

* * *

 **Martyrs, Examples and Enemies**

When the soldiers arrived in the square, Sarah knew something was wrong. Soon they dissipated throughout every street, every alley, bringing everybody out of their homes, the inns, the shops... All were guided to the square.

At the window, in the scientists' house Ben Franklin, Sarah, Michael and James were watching the scene suspiciously.

"What the hell is happening out there?" finally asked James.

"No idea," Michael shook his head. "It can't be anything good, though. Have you noticed the pillar in the middle of the square?"

"Maybe we should go take a look," Franklin said slowly, his eyes still fixed on the scene outside as he was getting away from the window.

"I think we won't have a choice anyway," Sarah answered slowly.

She took a step back, getting away from the window as well, when a Red Coat advanced towards the door.

"Looks like we're no exceptions," Michael mumbled under his breath.

The soldier knocked violently on the door.

"Open, by order of the King!"

The four friends exchanged a scared look, before advancing towards the door. The soldiers knocked again, even more violently this time. Franklin finally opened the door, whilst Yuri, Yoko and Pablo were coming down the stairs, hurrying towards the door as well.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Franklin asked politely, replacing his glasses straighter upon his nose.

"Everyone is to be gathered in the square, by order of General Gage," the Red Coat said.

The scientists and Franklin exchanged a glance, before nodding.

"Of course, we're coming. Just a second, we'll grab a hat..." Franklin started.

"You are to come now, Sir. Don't force us to use strength..."

"We're coming," Sarah calmed him down, stopping him as he was taking a step towards Franklin. "Come on, Dr. Franklin. I'm sure it won't be long, and you won't need a hat."

Franklin nodded slowly, and they all followed the soldiers out in the square.

The drums were echoing with a thud noise that resonated in a very unpleasant way in Sarah's chest, replacing the feeling of her heartbeat.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

Around the square the gathered crowd growing every second was a pure mess, and no one seemed to know what all this was about. Children had been brought as well, and Sarah hoped that nothing violent was about to happen.

And the drums continued their loud echo...

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

The soldiers pushed the crowd further in the square, and Sarah glared at the Red Coats as they pushed Franklin, making him trip and almost fall. Michael caught him at the last second, and he and James helped him walk a few more steps. She spotted Revere and Warren under the pillars of a wooden house, along with John Adams, and she, James, Michael and Franklin hurried towards them, whilst Yuri was remaining near the house with his two colleagues.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

"Do you know what this is all about?" Sarah asked her friends.

John Adams shook his head.

"No one knows," he answered.

"Where is Mr. Adams?" Sarah asked suddenly, noticing that Sam wasn't with them. "And Kelly? Well, I mean... the other Adams of course," she added to John with a smile.

"He's further down the square," Revere answered, nodding towards the back of the crowd. "We thought it was safer for everyone if he remained afar."

She nodded, wincing as a soldier passed near her, playing the drums.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

And then the soldiers took position in the square, and the drums sounded even louder than before.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

Above their heads, the sun was shining bright, the heat wetting their brow.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

And then a man was brought to the centre of the square, and to the wooden pillar that was standing there.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

And the man was attached, his back to the crowd. He rested his brow against the wood, his eyes closed. Sarah and her friends exchanged a worried look.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

The Red Coat torn the poor man's shirt apart, revealing his back to the sun.

 _Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum, Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-bum..._

Sarah's panicked gaze roamed throughout the crowd absentmindedly, whilst the soldiers were bringing everyone closer. She spotted Sam and Kelly, who saluted her with a nod; and Hancock a bit further away in a cart. He seemed as worried as she was. They exchanged a trembling gaze. Major Pitcairn entered the square, coming out of the house where he and Gage had been planning everything, and he remained at the top of the stairs, motionless for a while. Standing straight in his red and white uniform, he looked at the crowd with his piercing blue eyes, his hands in his back.

And the drums were now silent.

 _"For too long,_ " the voice of the Major echoed throughout the silent square, stern and cold " _this City has operated unchecked._ _No more. Boston will know order_."

The General walked out of the house and stood next to his Major. He saluted his officer, and Pitcairn leaned closer to him, whispering near his ear.

" _Sir, that's Adams, in the back._ "

Gage locked his gaze of steel upon Sam's stare, and the two men remained motionless for a moment, merely staring at each other in the eyes.

Next to him, Pitcairn turned towards the crowd again, and spoke in a louder voice once more.

" _Let it be known,_ " he said, walking slowly down the stairs, " _any man found in violation of his Majesty's laws will be dealt with without mercy._ "

He walked through the square, turning around the pillar and the prisoner who was still attached by the wrists. The sound of the Major's boots echoing upon the pavements was cutting the motionless air.

 _Clack, clack, clack, clack..._

A Red Coat took position behind the man, whilst Pitcairn was pointing at the Colonist.

" _This man was discovered not hours ago stealing from one of his Majesty's ships."_

The prisoner looked around for help, and for a second he and Sarah made eye contact. She could read her fear in his eyes. They both knew what was about to happen him, despite how terrible this idea was.

The man closed his eyes.

 _Clack, clack, clack, clack..._

 _"His punishment will be swift and just._ "

And the sound of his boots against the ground stopped.

Pitcairn turned towards the soldier, and nodded. The Red Coat took his whip, and let the tip hang above the ground. Sarah's eyes grew wide, and she held on Michael's arm for dear life.

And then the soldier raised his arm.

His fingers were holding so tightly the whip, his knuckles were white. Just like the prisoner's around the pillar.

And quickly his arm fell back, and the whip flew across the air.

 _Floosh..._

And then the whip hit violently the tender skin.

 _Clack!_

Sarah started. Cries rose from the crowd. The man bit his lip to swallow back the cry of pain stuck in his throat, but not a sound passed his lips. His back was red, and blood was already rolling down his wounded skin. Sarah's eyes were fixed upon him, and she was in some kind of trance, unable to look away, no matter how much her brain was screaming her to close her eyes and make the vision end. She was frozen, her eyes wide, to witness the soldier's arm rise again.

 _Floosh... Clack!_

This time the man arched his back, letting out a cry of pain.

Sam took a step towards him, his eyes burning with wrath, and pain, and sorrow, and sadness, and a thousand more emotions that were twirling mildly in his head, blurring his vision and covering his thoughts with mist. Clenching his jaws, his blood boiling, he just wanted to make it stop... But Kelly held him back. Sam struggled against his grasp for a moment, before calming down again. He nodded quickly, leaning against the wall again, his breathing heavy, but silently telling his friend he would not act. There was nothing he could do anyway. One against an army? That was ridiculous. He stared at the man again.

 _Floosh... Clack!_

Sarah's hand flew up on her mouth, blood splashing the ground around the pillar. Tears blurring her vision, she was still transfixed by the horrid scene. She couldn't hear the cries that were rising around her, only the sound of the whip falling.

 _Floosh... Clack!_

Blood flying, cries, the taste of her tears on her lips...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

The feeling of a woman trying to run away bumping into her right shoulder. And blood, always more blood, and the flesh exposed to the sun...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

The sound of the Red Coats pushing the women who were trying to flee back towards the center of the square so that they could see the end of the punishment...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

Blood, and cries, and movements all around her, and tears wetting her cheeks, and a sob stealing all the air from her lungs, and the spasm that ran through her body as a sob was shaking her...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

The cry of the man even louder than before, his legs giving way under his weight, his wrists holding him up, and the stillness of the Red Coat for a moment as he looked at the Major, and the Major looked at Gage, and Gage looked at Sam...

And the little droplets of blood fell down from the whip to the floor.

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap..._

But Sam held the General's stare, his jaws clenched, his chin a bit higher than before...

And Gage nodded to Pitcairn.

And Pitcairn nodded to his soldier.

And the arm rose once more.

 _Floosh... Clack!_

People struggling to get away again, and bumping into her, and the red lines across the man's back, and the blood, and the cries, and all the noise, and above everything else...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

And again...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

And again...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

She pressed her palms against her ears, she couldn't take any more of this, there was too much noise, too much cries, too much...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

"Stop it!"

Her voice rang above the crowd, covering everything else, and her shout was so desperate that the Red Coat froze.

"Stop! Please stop!"

But Pitcairn nodded again to his man, and the whip fell again.

 _Floosh... Clack!_

"NO!"

Before anyone could react, Sarah had run pass the crowd and the inner ring of Red Coats, and was holding the soldier by the wrists.

"Stop it!" she cried again, her voice shaking with tears.

Pitcairn held her by the waist, lifting her up, and threw her away. Her head hit heavily the ground of stone, and for a moment, everything was blur and messy. A pair of hands helped her to her feet, and she leaned against a strong chest to keep her balance, and her face was buried in a white fabric and a worn-out leathery coat, and she breathed in a scent of musk and coffee... She recognized it in an instant.

"Sam..." she mumbled, still struggling to clear her head.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, dragging her further away, in the back of the crowd.

"I'll be fine," she answered.

He released her, but she lost her balance instantly, and he caught her in his arms once more.

"You don't seem to be fine," he replied.

"My head is... messy," she said.

She looked up, able to see clearly enough to distinguish his dark eyes. The world seemed to stop spinning around her, and the noises were louder again, and...

 _Floosh... Clack!_

She closed her eyes at the sound, crying again, shaking, and Sam wrapped his arms tightly around her, pressing her protectively to his chest.

"It's alright," he reassured her, whispering in her ear, his lips resting against her hair. "It's alright, Sarah."

 _Floosh... Clack!_

"It's almost over, don't worry."

 _Floosh... Clack!_

"It will soon be over. Hold on."

 _Floosh... Clack!_

"Hold on, Sarah."

 _Floosh... Clack!_

"Hold on..."

And then it stopped. Sarah looked up at him. Sam was clenching his jaws, an expression of rage and pain drowning his dark stare.

She turned around to look at the man again.

He was moving no more...

" _As you can see,_ " Pitcairn spoke loudly once more, " _recent events have forced our hand. However, if you comply, there will be no need for such unpleasantness._ "

He turned towards his men, nodding towards the unconscious prisoner.

" _Take him away._ "

The Red Coats freed him and dragged him away.

" _Clear the square,_ " ordered the General.

Pitcairn repeated loudly the order, his men pushing everyone out of the square. Whilst Revere, James and Michael were standing still, John Adams walked away, and Warren followed the soldiers down the street.

" _I'm a doctor,_ " he told them. " _I need to treat this man..._ "

" _Bugger off!_ " the officer pushed him away.

" _He'll die without medical attention!_ "

Behind him, Michael and James were arriving, their eyes wide, but determined to help.

"You must let him see the doctor," Michael told the soldiers.

" _Go away!_ "

"He has the right to be treated... " James tried.

" _You must leave him, Sir. By order of the Crown._ "

Margaret Gage arrived right at this moment, along with her two guards and her maid. She stopped before the scene.

" _Sir, has this man not paid his punishment?_ " she asked sternly, though her voice was shaking slightly with concern.

" _Mrs. Gage..._ " the officer tried to protest.

" _I suggest you honour the law and let this man see a doctor._ "

There was a moment of silence, whilst the officer was thinking. He turned towards his men.

" _Take him to the doctor's office._ "

Warren indicated them the direction, before turning towards Gage's wife.

" _Thank you,_ " the doctor said, staring at her eyes.

They remained frozen for a moment, before Warren would walk away, and she would walk by as well. Michael followed Joseph, but James remained motionless, staring at the blond maid walking away. He saw her looking back over her shoulder before turning around the corner, her green eyes meeting his gaze...

"James, what are you doing?" Michael called him.

The Englishman started, before hurrying after his friends.

* * *

Sam held her close to him, protecting her from the crowd around them, helping her walk towards the Green Dragon. She was still crying silently, and he could feel her shaking against him. Behind them, Kelly and Revere were following close. He entered the inn, and headed towards a calm adjacent room, where he helped her sit down. He took a chair and sat down next to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She shook her head no, sobbing hard. He stroked soothingly her hair.

"It's alright, I'm here," he whispered.

She caught his arm and pulled him towards her once more, before burying her face in his shoulder, and he held her close to him again.

"Calm down. Joseph must be with him by now, I'm sure he'll be just fine."

"I can't believe Gage did this..." she whispered.

"You didn't know about this," Sam said, his tone sounding more like an affirmation than a question.

She shook her head, her hair brushing against his chin covered with beard.

"You need to calm down, now. Do you understand?" he asked, his low voice warm and reassuring.

She nodded, but despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop crying.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I can't stop..."

"It's okay," he interrupted her, calming her down again.

He took her face in his hands and made her look up at him.

"Let me take a look at your forehead," he said, his soft voice barely louder than a whisper.

She let him examine her brow.

"It's not deep," he said, holding her chin to make her turn her head a little more to the left. "You'll be alright. I'll just clean it a bit, okay?"

She nodded, and he stood up to pick up a jar full of water and a piece of fabric, that didn't look particularly clean, but she was too upset to care about such a tiny detail.

He cleaned the cut on her forehead, and eventually, she stopped crying.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, noticing her dry cheeks.

"Yes, thank you."

He smiled, pushing the cloth and the water away.

"You're still shaking," he pointed out.

"I know."

"Are you cold?"

He took off his coat, and covered her shoulders with it. He stroked her arms through the fabric of his coat to warm her up.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Can I do anything to help you feel better?" he asked.

She smiled, tears back in her eyes, and she shook her head.

"Thank you so much, Sam."

"Don't mention it," he merely replied.

She kissed his cheek.

"Thank you."

He struggled to keep his voice steady, despite how fast his heart was beating under his ribs.

"You can stay here for now," he told her. "I'll take you back to your house in a few hours, when it's a bit calmer out there."

She nodded.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, as she was looking at his worried expression.

"Are you sure? Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please, I'd love some."

"I'll be back in a minute."

He walked out of the room, and joined Kelly and Revere at the bar.

" _What the hell was that?_ " Kelly blurted out once Sam had joined them.

" _It's a warning shot,_ " Revere answered. " _He's trying to get our attention._ "

" _This will never happen to anyone in Boston ever again,_ " Sam said through gritted teeth, his voice sounding like an oath.

He looked at them intensely.

" _We need more guns._ "

* * *

When James, Michael and Sarah came back to the house, they hurried upstairs and locked the door of Sarah's room behind them. The situation was too dangerous to take any risk of eavesdropping, and they kept their voices very low, almost whispering.

"What happened today is outrageous!" Michael fumed.

"We're not in the 21st century," James reminded him.

"They are not supposed to flog citizens in this century either," Sarah replied. "And especially when there isn't any form of fair trial."

"Gage is going to be a problem," James nodded.

"You can be sure we're the next ones on his list," Michael added. "What do we do?"

Sarah heaved a sigh.

"If Gage makes a move against us..."

"Yuri will sing like the fucking coward he's always been," Michael completed for her.

She nodded.

"We can't take this risk," James stated.

"And what would you have us do, Mr. Genius?" Michael retorted wryly.

"If Yuri talks, he will change the future."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"We can't do nothing."

"Whatever we may try, if Gage makes a move against us, we'll have to act. We'll have to change things."

"We must also make sure that Gage doesn't find anything when he comes here," Sarah said slowly.

"Like what? We have no weapons," James asked.

"But Yuri could turn some of our equipment into weapons, or tools Gage could use... I don't know what, but we can't take any risk."

"What do you think Yoko and Pablo will do, if we come that far?"

"I don't know. Maybe they'll stand with us, perhaps they'll trust Yuri... Anyway, it doesn't really matter. One of us talking is enough to make huge damages."

"The battery is probably the most important item," Michael said slowly. "Without the battery, none of our equipment will work. At least, Gage will have no advanced weaponry."

"Can we transport it?" James asked his friend.

Michael shrugged.

"If we're cautious... But we can't merely hide it. We need the battery for basically everything. Yuri will never let us stop working just to..."

There was a loud noise downstairs. The three friends froze, exchanging a worried look.

A heavy silence echoed throughout the house.

Then the loud noise came back again, and Sarah recognized a violent knock on the front door.

They hurried outside the room, Sarah catching quickly a bag, and they headed downstairs.

"Open, in the name of the King!"

Yuri opened the door, the three friends arriving in the hall.

"Is there a problem?" Yuri asked.

He had barely finished to speak that the Red Coat violently pushed him aside.

"General Gage requires your house," Major Pitcairn said, walking into the hall.

"I beg your pardon?" Yuri asked, aghast.

"You are to leave the house. Now," the military man repeated.

"You've got to be kidding me," Michael said.

"I am afraid it is not a joke."

"And where are we supposed to work?" asked Yuri.

"Well, actually..."

Pitcairn handed him a letter.

"General Gage hopes you can come to an agreement."

"An agreement?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

"Yes, you see, he's ready to let you live here and work peacefully, in exchange of some information, and the white box you used to come here."

"It has to be a joke," Michael laughed.

"I can assure you that the situation is perfectly serious."

The Red Coats walked out of the living room, carrying the Box.

"You can't take this away," Yuri ordered the soldiers. "Put it back!"

"I'm afraid they won't. You see Doctor," Pitcairn answered slowly, his hands behind his back, "we only need your cooperation. You can be sure that no harm will come to you if you comply. But if you don't..."

There was a deafening silence, whilst the soldiers were walking out of the house, carrying the Box away.

"You have till dawn to give us an answer," Pitcairn told them. "And I would advise you to choose wisely your side here."

"Look," Yuri told him as Pitcairn was walking towards the door again," we don't take sides. We're not helping anyone..."

"I'm afraid you will have to choose a side, if you want to keep living here."

"Then let us leave..."

Pitcairn shook his head, an amused smile on the lips.

"Dr. Einbrecher, do you really think we would let such a valuable source of information slip between our fingers?"

He walked out of the house, his men closing the door behind them. On the threshold, a Red Coat remained there on sentry. Sarah guessed that he was eavesdropping.

Yuri turned towards his colleagues.

"I'm sorry."


	13. Choosing A Side

**Here comes a new chapter! Hope you like it!**

 **No scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Please tell me what you think about my story so far. Don't forget to leave me a little review :)**

* * *

 **Choosing a Side**

The night had already fallen, covering with shadows the streets of Boston and with moonlight the rooftops. Six figures advanced through the night, blacker than the darkness in which they had wrapped themselves, ghostly shapes walking down the dirty streets. All around them the sound of loud men and drunken silhouettes were like twirling in a blur mist. Finally, they reached the right inn. Sarah opened slowly the door, being careful at hiding her face until she was inside the Green Dragon. The second the scientists entered, silence fell upon the room. All the men, whom, a second before, had been drinking and laughing and talking, were now motionless, still like statues of cold stone, their eyes fixed suspiciously on the scientists. Sarah cleared her throat, whilst Samuel Adams was walking towards her, closely followed by Kelly, Warren, Revere, and Ben Franklin. Sam stared at them, his brow furrowed at the sight of Yuri, Pablo and Yoko, his eyes slightly narrowed in a warning expression. Clearly, he wasn't very happy to see them, and she could hardly reproach it to him.

"Sarah, what's going on here?" he asked her, his eyes still fixed suspiciously on the German.

"We need a place where we can talk, without any British soldier listening to our conversation," she answered earnestly.

"Why? What happened?"

"Gage came to our house, not an hour ago. He stole the Box, and will take our house if we don't give him what he wants."

The five men exchanged a worried glance.

"We need to talk about what we're going to do now, and we need to do it without eavesdroppers. This place is the only one in Boston where we can talk freely without taking the risk to be hanged for speaking our minds. And we desperately need to speak our minds right now."

Sam shook his head, looking at Yuri again.

"I don't trust you," he said, without hiding his animosity. "Sarah, James and Michael can stay, the others have to leave."

"You should let them Sam," Revere whispered in his ear. "We'll hear everything if they stay here. 'Can be good for us."

"And they are not all with Gage," Warren added. "Sarah is kind-hearted, and Michael and James are honourable men as well. Most of them haven't shown any sign for either side for now. We should give them a chance."

Sam nodded, before turning towards the scientists again. He pointed at the table on his right, open palmed, bending slightly, a wry smile on his face.

"Please."

They sat at the indicated table, Sarah taking off her bag from her shoulder. Sam gestured to the men in the tavern to clear the room, and soon only the five Sons of Liberty were remaining in the inn. Yuri twitched on his chair, clearly uncomfortable.

"I suppose we cannot talk in private."

"We're allowing you here, I reckon 'is already enough," answered Kelly, crossing his arms upon his chest.

"And we're not asking for more," Michael answered, glowering at Yuri.

The German merely rolled his eyes. Ben Franklin took a seat next to the table, ready to listen closely.

"So... I guess it's useless to delay this any longer," Pablo blurted out in his heavy Spanish accent. "We all know why we're here. We have to decide what we should do."

"We have no choice," answered Yuri. "If we don't help Gage, we'll never have access to the Box again, and without the Box, we're stuck here."

"Can't we find a way to take it back?" asked Yoko.

"We can't fight a whole army at six men, Yoko," answered James, shaking his head. "We wouldn't stand a chance. And it's Gage we're talking about. I don't know for you, but I would rather not find my neck being broken for a so stupid reason."

"There must be a way to get it back..." Yoko insisted.

"The only way would have been to travel back before Gage arrived, like Sarah advised us to do, like James and I agreed. But as Yuri doesn't listen to anyone but himself..." replied Michael, his blood already boiling in his veins.

Yuri tried to calm him down.

"It was a mistake to stay," the German admitted.

"Glad you finally recognize that I was right, and you were wrong," Sarah snapped. "But there's no use to get back to that," she added in a sigh. "It's too late now, we're here, in this situation. And it's true Yuri put us all in this position in the first place, but it won't help anyone to get mad at him. At least not now."

Yuri leaned further above the table, his elbows resting on the dirty wood, his hands open in a soothing gesture.

"I know it's a bad situation, and I know I am mostly responsible for it. But now, Sarah is right, there's no need to fight each other. We have to decide what is going to be our next move. And there is only one I can see."

He heaved a deep sigh.

"We have to help Gage, at least the time we manage to access the Box, and find a way to go home."

Sam clenched his fists, throwing a glimpse at Kelly, both of them ready to react.

"You can't be serious," Michael breathed, aghast. "This guy is a psychopath! You've seen what he's done to this poor man in the square!"

Warren put a soothing hand upon Sam's arm, asking him silently to wait.

"I know. But he's the only one who can make us access the Box," Yuri argued. "And if we can't access the Box, we're not going home."

"We can't help Gage!" Michael protested, fury reddening his cheeks and raising his deep voice. "We can't help him for ethical reasons because he's a monster, but also for the sake of the timeline. I'm from Boston, Yuri. And helping Gage could change the fate of my own country!"

"If we don't help him, he'll have us all killed."

Silence fell across the table. Michael turned his burning glance towards the woman on his left.

"Sarah? What do you say?"

She breathed deeply in, before sighing. She rested her forearms on the table, leaning further over the wooden furniture. She spoke in a slow and low voice, looking at her hands as she was talking.

"First, I don't think we should take a collegial decision. We are not only talking about scientific issues here, we are talking about our lives. And all of us should take the decision that he thinks is the best for himself, and not the decision that had the majority."

She let her words sink in for a while, taking a quick look at her colleagues. They nodded in agreement, and she went on.

"Now, we have only two possibilities. What is for sure is that we can't remain impartial anymore. Until now we could stay on the edge, but now the knife is too sharp, we would only fall. We have to pick up a side."

Again she stopped briefly, letting her words sink in.

"We have two possibilities," she repeated. "We can either help Gage, and in that case we will probably have to give him some information, possibly weapons... But I don't think he will make us actually fight. We would probably remain in Boston, and would not have to kill anyone, nor get killed. With a bit of chance, we should find a way either to convince him to let us use the Box again, either to access the Box and use it to go home. We undoubtedly have some chances to go back home, and to survive."

She took a deep breath before resuming her speech.

"Or, we can fight with the Colonists. We will also have to reveal some information, undoubtedly, and help them build weapons... And we will have to fight. We will go to war, we will take the risk to kill and to be killed. We will be fugitives, tracked down to be hanged, and you can be sure that Gage will not be tender if he catches us. In the best scenario, we will end up hanged, in the worst, tortured."

She cleared her throat.

"We will probably never have a chance to access the Box again. We will not go home, we will never see our family again, our friends... And we will die, probably."

She fell silent, and no one spoke for a while. Around the table, the Colonists were exchanging cautious looks. Sam looked down at his feet...

For her sake, Sarah didn't have a choice. She had to chose Gage's side. She had proved in the past that she didn't agree with him, but now her life was at stake. And despite how much this choice seemed terrible to him, Sam understood the reasons that left the scientists no choice but to cooperate. But still, it was killing him to think of her as an enemy...

Yuri cleared his throat.

"Well... clearly, we don't have a choice. We have to help Gage. If we don't, we will all die."

He looked at his colleagues, one by one, his sharp blue eyes tracing a circle around the table.

"I'll help Gage."

Pablo nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I'll help Gage too."

Yoko nodded, and turned towards Michael.

"And maybe we could get back in time before it happens, before Gage takes the Box..."

"Even you don't believe in this bullshit," Michael snapped.

He turned towards Sarah.

"What do you do?"

She had picked up her badge from her pocket, and was turning it between her graceful fingers, staring at it. This badge was the key to use the Box, none of them ever left it out of their sight. It was their ticket home.

She remained silent for a moment, her blue eyes fixed on the little card in her hands, before a small smile would appear slowly upon her lips.

"Well... Dying to defend freedom and justice, I reckon it's a pretty good way to die."

She turned her intense gaze towards Sam.

"You can count me in, Mr. Adams. I'll fight with you."

She threw her badge across the table towards Yuri.

"I'll fight with the Colonists."

The five men exchanged a surprised look.

Yuri stared at her for a while, unable to move, nor talk. She ignored him, and turned to Michael instead.

"Well, do we really have to ask you the question?" she asked him with a smile.

Michael let out a laugh.

"I'm from Boston, what do you think?"

He turned around towards Sam as well.

"Of course I'm fighting with you!"

He threw his badge to Yuri as well, Sarah laughing softly at her friend. They both set their eyes upon their English friend.

"James?" Michael asked him.

The man merely sighed, before turning towards Sam, Paul and Joseph.

"Please, don't burn any Union Jack in front of me. I mean, I agree with the whole thing, of course. You're right to fight, but... I was raised in London for Christ's sake!"

Sarah and Michael chuckled. James looked at his best friends.

"Of course I'll fight with you."

And he threw his badge away as well.

Warren, Franklin and Revere couldn't refrain a small smile.

"So I guess it's three against three," Sarah said slowly, her eyes piercing right threw Yuri's soul.

"This is madness..." he answered, desperate. "You'll get killed!"

She looked at him with a sad expression, in which he read pity as well, and it pierced his heart like a sharp knife.

"How could I ever face myself again, if to save my own life, I had helped a man destroying thousands?"

She shook slowly her head.

"You may survive Yuri, and I will probably die. You may go home, and I will stay here. But under the grasp of Gage you will be like a slave. You will be a puppet in his sadistic game. You cannot live without freedom, Yuri, you can only survive then, and there is a huge difference between the two. I intend to live my life until my very last breath. I would rather die than not live. I would rather die than survive."

She shrugged.

"You are too selfish to see things this way, I know you are. You have no sense of honour Yuri, and that's a shame really. But I won't let people die to save my life. I will not give up on them when they are doing what is right. And my own life is of very little importance indeed."

Yuri slowly got up, soon imitated by Pablo and Yoko.

"Goodbye then. And good luck," he said, his voice colder.

"Goodbye Yuri."

The three scientists walked towards the door, but were stopped by Kelly and Revere.

"No, please," Sarah asked them kindly. "Please let them go."

She looked up at Sam, her eyes begging. He turned towards his two friends without a word, and with a quick nod, told them silently to let them pass safely.

"Thank you."

Sam turned his dark glance towards her again, still silent. Behind them, the door closed.

They were gone.

"We have to go back to the house," James said, still staring at the door, his voice suddenly urgent. "We must take the battery before they have time to use any of our equipment to build weapons."

Michael nodded, but Sarah shook her head.

"It won't be necessary."

"What do you mean?" Michael asked her, frowning.

She picked up her bag, and put it on the table, she opened it, and took the generator off of it.

"I've already taken care of it," she said. "It's stopped, but we should destroy it completely, to make sure it won't fall into the wrong hands. Which means into Gage's hands basically."

She handed the battery to Michael.

"You should do it yourself I reckon. It's your baby."

Michael looked sadly at the machine.

"It took me three years to build it..."

"I know, Michael, I'm sorry."

"It's my masterpiece, probably the best piece of engineering I've ever created..."

"I know, Michael."

He heaved a deep sigh, before turning towards the men standing around them.

"You wouldn't have a hammer, by any chance?"

Revere handed him one, and Michael heaved a deep sigh again, before letting the tool fall heavily upon the generator, destroying it completely. Ben Franklin looked intensely at Sarah.

"If you had already taken care of this... generator," he said, nodding towards the broken battery, "it means that you had already thought about, and even decided, which side you would pick."

She smiled at him.

"Honestly Dr. Franklin, there was not even any thinking to do."

They smiled, Franklin strangely moved. He appreciated this woman, she had a wild and true spirit, that many men had a lack of. She knew what she wanted, what was right, what was wrong, and was ready to do whatever she might think necessary to live according to her ideals. But more importantly, she was undoubtedly smart, and he was glad that a person with a sharp sense of strategy would be added to their rebellion.

Sam however didn't enjoy the idea of Sarah and her friends risking their lives to help them.

"You shouldn't have done that," Sam said slowly.

She turned towards him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"You're taking crazy risks, you could be killed, and you know it..."

"And yet we have decided to help you, instead of Gage."

"You shouldn't do this. You should protect yourselves. It's not your war."

"It is though," Michael answered, staring intensely at Sam in the eyes.

The Colonists looked at him.

"I'm from Boston, remember?" Michael told them. "What is happening here, now, it concerns me as well. It's my war too."

"Which means ours," sighed James, a desperate intonation in his voice.

Michael merely smiled at him in response.

But Franklin looked at him with wide eyes.

"Oh Christ..." he breathed.

Everyone turned towards him.

"What is it, Doctor Franklin?" Warren asked him, suddenly worried.

Franklin remained speechless for a moment, before narrowing his eyes at Michael.

"You've always been particularly virulent in your defence of the timeline, especially the three of you," he said slowly. "I can't believe that you've suddenly thrown all this away, especially when you've always been in _our_ side..."

Michael's eyes grew wide, and he, Sarah and James exchanged a worried look.

"We're not supposed to tell you anything about the future," James reminded Franklin.

"I know," the older man replied, "but it doesn't mean that I can't guess the truth."

"I don't understand," Sam admitted, though he was starting to have a glimpse at the truth, and it was making his heart beat faster and faster.

Michael looked questioningly at Sarah, and the woman merely shrugged in response, a small smile curving her lips. They had guessed the truth anyway...

Michael looked at them, smiling as well.

"Well... Let's say that I'm not British," Michael answered slowly.

The five Colonists exchanged a cautious look.

"But you're from Boston," Warren breathed.

Michael nodded.

"Now you can understand why I'm definitely _not_ helping Gage. I can't fight against my own country!"

"And if things changed, and Gage won," Sarah added. "It would mean that Michael and James's best excuse for bickering would disappear."

James and Michael chuckled.

"That's true," James laughed, patting Michael's shoulder. "No chance I'm accepting this clown as a fellow British."

The three scientists laughed.

But Sam shook his head.

"We still can't accept your help," he said.

"Why not?" James asked. "I hadn't noticed you had too many men..."

"You can't risk your lives for us."

"It's _our_ lives, Sam. Which means that it's _our_ choice," Sarah replied.

Franklin nodded, looking at Sarah, but leaning towards Sam as he was speaking.

"I think she is right. They could be a massive advantage."

"And Gage will have the help of the three others," Paul said. "We need to have them on our side, try to keep the whole thing in balance."

Sam stared at three scientists, still clearly hesitant.

"Alright, but we're the ones in charge here."

Sarah smiled.

"Sounds fair enough."

"So... what shall we do now?" James asked.

"Well, I don't know for you, but I could use a drink," answered Michael.

The three friends laughed, along with Warren, Franklin and Revere.

"I think you do deserve a drink," said Warren.

He poured them some wine. Michael raised his glass.

"To luck," he said. "God knows we'll need it."

James smiled, raising his glass as well.

"To friendship," he said, looking at his two best friends next to him.

Finally, Sarah raised her own glass.

"To Liberty."

* * *

It was raining. Yuri staggered into the mud, that had changed the streets into drenched pools. They didn't head towards the house, it was useless. General Gage had probably already learned about his drugged soldiers, and Yuri reckoned it was better to make amend for their deception before trying to get back to their house. He had let Sarah slipped some drugs into the soldiers' cup of tea. Now, he was regretting this, he shouldn't have let her give them this tea... So the three colleagues walked towards the Governor's house. The soldiers at the door made them come inside and they were guided to the General office. General Gage was sitting comfortably behind the desk, and his piercing eyes fixed themselves on Yuri as soon as he entered the room.

"Well..." General Gage said softly in his usual slow and cold tone. "I suppose you have come here to give me an explanation for my wounded men, and ask for mercy."

He invited the three scientists to sit with a slow gesture of the hand.

"Indeed, General, that's exactly why we have come here," Yuri answered. "But I can assure you first that your men have suffered of no injury whatsoever. They have merely been drugged and will be awake and well by the morning, ready to get back to their duty, you have my word."

"I am undoubtedly reassured. But I would still like to know in which circumstances this could have happened."

"I..." Yuri began slowly. "I am afraid Sarah has... taken a wrong decision..."

"You say that it was her who drugged my men?"

"Yes General, it was."

"And why would she do such thing?"

Yuri cleared his throat, his brow glimmering in the dim light of the candles as he was starting to sweat profusely.

"Well... You see, as you have now the control of the Box, she thought it would be interesting for us to talk about this situation, without having any of your soldiers nearby."

Gage's upper lip fluttered.

"And why would she want to talk away from any of my soldiers?" he asked slowly, his voice even colder than before.

"She..."

Yuri cleared his throat again, but his voice wouldn't come back. He had to say it, for his own sake, and the sake of his two truthful colleagues. But he knew his confession would bring death upon Sarah and her friends.

"Would she have spoken treason?" asked Gage.

He leaned towards the three scientists, his jaws tightly clenched, his eyes sparkling. He seemed like a cat ready to jump upon a wounded bird. Yuri struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.

"I'm afraid she has, General."

Gage's Adam's apple pulsed suddenly.

"Did you speak treason, Dr. Einbrecher?"

Yuri sat straighter, staring back at Gage's cold eyes.

"No, none of us three did. That's why we are here. We offer you our help, and shall do what you will command us to do."

"That is a wisest decision than the one your colleagues seem to have taken," the General answered with a barely noticeable smirk.

"I think so myself, General."

"My first command to you," Gage said in his characteristically arrogant tone, "shall be to answer my questions. And you should be sure that if I find any lie in your statements, I shall treat you as firmly as I will treat your treacherous friends. Am I clear?"

The three scientists exchanged a frightened look.

"Perfectly clear," answered Yuri, his voice a bit hoarse.

Gage nodded slowly, before speaking again.

"Where did you go?"

His voice was colder than stone.

"To an inn, downtown. Where she knew there would be no soldiers to hear what she wanted to say."

"Which inn?"

"The Green Dragon."

Gage sat straighter in his chair again, breathing deeply in. He remembered that name...

"Is it not the same inn where Samuel Adams and his band of cutthroats have been seen several times?"

"It is indeed General."

"Were they in the inn?"

"They were. They let us in, and Adams asked his men to clear the room."

"Who else was with them?"

"Paul Revere, Benjamin Franklin, Tim Kelly, Joseph Warren and Samuel Adams."

"I see..."

General Gage remained silent for a while, staring at the wall right behind Yuri. He finally focused again on the scientist.

"And what did you discuss in this inn?"

"We discussed what we ought to do, now that you have the control of the Box, and therefore of our way to go home. We three stated clearly, and since the very beginning of our small debate that we were standing by your side. But the others decided to help the Colonists."

Gage propped up an eyebrow.

"Did they really? Even if they know that I have the power of life and death upon them all?"

"Clearly, General, they are not seeing the situation as it really is. Otherwise they would have taken the wisest decision, just like we have."

"So they will help the Colonists?"

"Yes, General."

"It is such a shame really... wasting lives like this."

He didn't seem particularly sorry though...

"Dr. Einbrecher, you and your colleagues will go back to your house, and shall remain there until I appoint you some new duties. You may go now."

He waved his hand towards the door, and the scientists hurried out of the office. Gage called for Major Pitcairn.

"Major," he told his second in command, "I officially issue a warrant against the three scientists Sarah Hugo, James Williamson and Michael Redcraft. They are to be arrested and brought to me directly, but not killed. Apparently, the people of Boston need another reminder of the power of the crown..."

He walked slowly towards the windows, his hands behind his back, standing very straight. Outside, the rain was still falling heavily, leaving long traces upon the window pane.

"Well, if they need another example, then so be it."

* * *

Yuri's eyes grew wide. When he tried to turn on the light, nothing happened.

"Something wrong with the battery?" asked Yoko.

Yuri hurried towards the locked chest. He composed quickly the secret code, and flung it open. Yuri stopped breathing. The chest was empty... But Sarah and the others couldn't have come here while Yuri and his colleagues were talking with Gage, there were Red Coats all around the house... Yuri clenched his jaws. She had planned and organised meticulously everything... Sarah knew before leaving for the inn what her decision would be, and had prepared in consequence. She left them without electricity, which meant without their equipment. No data, no archives, no analyses, no help... He clenched his fists. So she wanted war? Well, she would most certainly have it...

* * *

Sarah, James and Michael were settled in the secret room under the floor of the Green Dragon, where Sam himself used to hide from time to time, and they spent the night there, none of them able to sleep, but thinking about what the next day could bring. A warrant had probably already been issued for their arrest. Soldiers would be searching the whole city for them, and Sarah couldn't help but think that Yuri would most certainly tell Gage about their hiding place. Around eight, Dr. Warren came down with apples and bread, along with some hot coffee.

"What are the news?" Michael asked eagerly.

"General Gage has issued a warrant against you three," answered Joseph, sitting at the table with the scientists. "You are to be arrested, but not killed."

"Nice to precise this," mumbled James wryly.

"Red Coats have been searching everywhere for you since dawn. They should soon be here."

Sarah heaved a sigh.

"I hope none of you will get in trouble because of us. I'm afraid Yuri will talk to Gage about last night."

Warren merely shrugged, an amused smile curving up his lips.

"General Gage already doesn't like us anyway."

They laughed softly.

"Thank you, for everything," Michael said. "We've said we would help you, but for now clearly, you're the ones protecting us."

"I'm sure you will soon have the occasion to help us as well."

"I'm afraid we will indeed," Sarah answered, her voice sounding like her mind had drifted away.

The secret hatch was opened again, and Benjamin Franklin joined them around the table. He swept the dust away from the chair before sitting.

"Well, if one thing is for sure, it's that you are now all wanted men, and woman of course," Franklin smiled, wicking at Sarah.

She smiled back at him.

"Where are the Red Coats?" she asked him.

"Four streets away. They should soon be here."

"Where are Mr. Adams and the others?"

Warren pointed at the ceiling.

"I'm afraid they are all up there. They are waiting for the British soldiers to arrive. I fear they might get pretty violent with them."

"If you don't mind, the doctor and I will stay here until the storm above our heads is weathered again," Franklin said.

"Of course, Dr. Franklin," James nodded, picking up an apple.

He bitted fiercely into the fruit, famished, but didn't have the time to swallow his mouthful before the Red Coats would open the door of the inn, slamming the door. Major Pitcairn entered first, followed quickly by his men, his chin high, a hand resting upon his pistol. He walked slowly through the room, his black and carefully cleaned boots making the wood crack at every step. All the men in the inn stopped talking, and the soft sound of conversations quickly died out, silence filling up the atmosphere. They all turned towards the new comers. Under the wooden floor, nobody dared to move, their heads thrown back towards the ceiling, struggling to get a glimpse at what was happening above their heads. The soldiers stopped walking, and everything was still for a moment. Sarah stopped breathing.

"We are looking for the three scientists," Pitcairn said slowly, "Michael Redcraft, James Williamson and Sarah Hugo. We know they have come here last night, and any man who will give us information will be rewarded."

Silence wrapped its cloak around the room again.

"If you do not talk, however," Pitcairn went on, his voice colder now and his tone threatening, "and we learn that you have seen them last night, I am afraid it will have very unpleasant consequences for you."

The Major took a step towards one of the Colonists, and Sarah moved slightly on her chair to get a better view. She managed to have a glimpse between two floorboards at the long and shaggy coat of Sam Adams.

"It would be a shame really, for everyone here in Boston, to have to witness another example of General Gage's wrath, don't you think, Mr. Adams?"

Sarah clenched her fists, and through the space between the floorboards, she saw that Sam was having the same reaction. In the deep silence that followed, they could all hear Samuel's heavy and angry breath.

"So, what say you, Mr. Adams?"

"I say that I didn't see anything last night," Sam answered, his tone defying the Marine.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"And no one else here has seen them, I guess..."

They all shook their heads, glowering at the soldiers.

"It is a shame really..."

Suddenly, there were three soldiers moving towards Sam...

"I have done my best to convince you Mr. Adams."

... the three Red Coats were now around him...

"You see, I know you are lying Mr. Adams."

... they took a step further, coming in arm-reach...

"I have several statements clearly identifying you and your friends in the inn last night, when the scientists were there."

...they rose their hands towards Sam, who looked quickly around him...

"But if you don't wish to cooperate..."

...Sam took a step back and took discreetly a pint in his right hand, his knuckles turning white as he was tightening his grip...

"...I am afraid I will have to ask you to come with us."

...The soldiers' hands had almost reached him...

"Unless you have something else to say."

Sam stared at him, his glance challenging.

"You and your men should go now, we don't want you here," he answered through gritted teeth, his voice low and threatening.

He took a step towards the Major, coming at only a few inches from his nose, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"Take him outside," the Major commanded to his men, his teeth gritted as well.

But the second the first soldier reached Sam's arm, Kelly and Revere had both took a stool and were hitting with all their might two of the soldiers surrounding Sam. The pint flew right into the third soldier's face, and he fell to the ground in a thud.

Drops of blood fell down on the ground at Michael's feet, mingled with beer.

Soon everyone was fighting, stools sent flying across the room, tables breaking under the weight of falling men, both British and Colonists. Warren made a move to stand but Franklin held him back. If the Red Coats found them in there, they were all doomed...

Sarah's hand flew up to her mouth, shushing a cry as Sam was falling to the ground in a thud, a blond haired soldier grabbing him by the collar and punching him hard on the face several times. Blood fell down upon the table. Warren struggled to free himself from Franklin's grasp but soon James was helping the elder man to control the doctor. Wide eyed, Clara was too shocked to react.

Paul threw himself upon the blond Red Coat, making him fall to the ground. Sam groaned, staggering as he was getting back on his feet. He leaned on the bar to steady himself, wiping the blood away from his eyes. There was a loud click, and everyone in the room froze. Sam looked slowly up again. Pitcairn was holding tightly his pistol in his hand, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. Sam stood straighter.

"What are you waiting for then?" he asked the Major, his voice daring him to shoot.

Under the floor, they all remained motionless as well. Sarah took slowly Michael's hand in hers and held his fingers tightly.

"I give you one last chance, Adams," Pitcairn spoke slowly. "Tell me where the scientists are."

"Or you'll kill a civilian?"

Sam took a step towards Pitcairn.

"Shoot then, go on."

He took another step, and his chest touched the canon of the Major's firearm.

"Shoot, and what then? You'll soon be starting to kill children on the streets anyway. You've already flogged a man who had only stolen some food from your precious little cargo because he was starving. It's merely a logical continuation."

He pressed his chest harder against the firearm.

"Go on, shoot. You can be sure I'll be dead before I say anything to you."

Sarah made a movement to stand, but James and Michael grabbed her both by the wrists, and shushed her protest, pressing firmly their other hands on her mouth. She couldn't let him die. He wasn't supposed to die. He couldn't...

Pitcairn pressed his finger a bit more on the trigger...

"Believe me I am more than tempted..." the Major said.

Sam looked intensely in the officer's eyes, his dark glance piercing the soldier to his soul, before spitting blood right in front of Pitcairn's shoes. The Marine clenched his jaws even tighter. Michael kept Sarah pressed in his arms as she was desperately struggling to free herself from his grasp.

A soldier suddenly stormed into the room.

"Major, I have some new information about the scientists."

Pitcairn struggled to stay calm, still staring into Sam's dark eyes.

"Speak!" he replied through gritted teeth.

"Two men say they have seen them crossing King Street, around midnight. They say they were heading towards the harbour."

Between two floorboards, Sarah distinguished the ghost of a smile appearing on the Major's lips.

"The Harbour indeed?"

He lowered his pistol.

"I would be careful if I were you, Mr. Adams. General Gage does not appreciate liars."

"And I don't appreciate flogging," Sam answered angrily through gritted teeth, his voice shaky.

He glowered at the Marines as they were exiting the inn. Major Pitcairn turned towards him one last time.

"We are going to find these scientists Mr. Adams, and when they will themselves confess that they have seen you here last night, you will wish this conversation to have been quite different indeed."

"We'll see."

Pitcairn got out, and Kelly locked the door behind him. Michael finally released Sarah, whilst Franklin was loosening their grip on the doctor as well. They both ran up to the hatch. Sam and Revere were sitting down on a bench, laughing, Sam patting Paul's shoulder. Next to them, Kelly was helping Amos to get back on his feet.

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked them quickly.

Sam turned his attention towards her, nodding.

"We're fine."

"You have a broken nose," Warren pointed out, a smile on his face now that he could see that his friends were safe.

Sam opened his arms, answering with a smirk and a wry tone.

"Guess I had to find a way to let you all a chance with ladies..."

"It is not very polite to make this sort of remark _before_ a Lady, Mr. Adams," Franklin smiled, climbing out of the narrow staircase and walking into the inn again.

"I'm sure she'll forgive me."

"I do," Sarah smiled.

Sam held a dirty piece of cloth against his nose, and threw his head backwards to stop the blood that was flowing out of his nose profusely.

"You should bend your head towards the ground instead, Mr. Adams," Clara advised him. "You should press your nostril, with your head down."

He glimpsed at her, not turning his head towards her.

"It will be more effective to stop the bleeding," she added, seeing that he was ignoring her remark.

He looked at her again, for a longer time this time, before leaning down, his face towards the ground. After less than a minute, the bleeding stopped. Warren knelt down before him and took a look at his cut cheek.

"You shouldn't have a scar, but I have to clean it."

Warren stood up quickly and headed downstairs to pick up his medicine.

"Thank you," Michael thanked the men around him.

Paul gave him a pat on the back.

"Don't mention it," he answered. "Besides, hitting a few Red Coats is always a pleasure."

"You can't stay here though," Sam told the three friends. "They'll know you're here sooner or later. And next time, you can be sure they'll bring enough men to tear the whole place into pieces. We need to get you out of town."

"I reckon it wouldn't be a bad idea to get _you_ out of town as well, Mr. Adams," said Ben Franklin. "After your 'discussion' with the Major, you will probably become a wanted man yourself."

"I don't think we'll be able to make them get out of town so easily," Sam shook his head.

The doctor came back, and started to clean Sam's wood with one of his concoctions. He winced hard as Warren was applying the wet towel on his cheek.

"You could at least pretend to be delicate," Sam protested, faking anger.

"Don't be such an infant," Joseph answered, chuckling softly. "Hold this."

Sam sniffed loudly, holding the towel against his cheekbone. He looked at the scientists again.

"Now, we have to find somewhere you'll be safe enough."

Paul smiled slowly.

"Think I know just the place."


	14. Hidings And Discoveries

**Here comes a new chapter, hope you like it!**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Monday.**

 **Please, all remarks and critics and points of view are welcome, so tell me what you think about this chapter, and about this story in general.**

* * *

 **Hidings And Discoveries**

Paul and Sam let the mattress fall down to the ground. A huge spider ran away across the dusty floor, and went hiding under the door of a cupboard. Through the dirty round window, a shy golden light was enlightening the room. Despite the opening, it was dark, because of the narrow window and the dirty glass that was capturing most of the light.

"It's not much," Revere said in a sheepish tone, looking around at the almost-empty room. "But no one is going to come looking for you here. Everyone around here is with us. You won't have to fear Red Coats as long as you're remaining in this house."

"It's perfect, Mr. Revere," Sarah reassured him with a warm smile. "Thank you very much for allowing us to hide here, in your workshop."

"Technically, we're above his workshop," James replied, struggling to climb up the stairs, carrying some clean clothes.

He threw the pile of clothing onto the nearest mattress.

"I hate stairs," he moaned.

Michael merely laughed at him.

"It's very kind of you to help us in our hiding," Michael thanked Revere as well.

"You shouldn't go out of here too often though," Sam advised. "Gage's men will not stop looking for you before you're behind bars."

The three scientists nodded silently.

"I have to say that not for a second did I imagine myself hiding in Mr. Revere's workshop when I decided to get on this ship and come back here," Ben Franklin admitted with a sigh.

He sat on a dirty chair, sweeping away the sweat on his forehead. It was even hotter in Revere's workshop than outside, and all of them felt like they were ice melting under the sun.

"What are you going to do now?" Sarah asked Sam.

The man merely shrugged.

"I don't know for now. I reckon we'd better remain discreet for a while."

"You'll probably have to hide as well, sooner or later," James told him. "You defended us this morning, you're clearly a target for Gage now."

Sam gave James one of his crooked smiles.

"I don't reckon he liked me before I defended you anyway. Thank God..."

They all smiled to him.

"You should be careful," Sarah told him.

He nodded, before taking a chair as well, and sending his hat flying across the room, and onto a mattress.

"What are _you_ going to do now?" he asked the three scientists.

Warren came in, closely followed by Kelly, carrying more wooden chairs. Soon, everyone was sitting down around an old wooden table.

"We said we would help, and we will," Michael assured them.

"How?" Sam asked him.

Michael shrugged, looking at Sarah.

"What would you need?" she asked Sam.

"Weapons," Warren, Revere, Sam and Kelly answered simultaneously.

James winced, but Michael patted reassuringly his shoulder. He knew his friend didn't like weapons, and violence, but they didn't really have a choice. A war was coming, and Michael was sure that Yuri would not hesitate for a second to help Gage building weapons. If they wanted to have a chance, they needed to build some weapons for the Colonists as well.

"Right," Sarah nodded, thinking hard. "The good news is, as we've destroyed the battery, Yuri and the others won't be able to use any of our equipment. Which means that they don't have any advantage on us."

"But I thought the Box needed energy as well to work?" Franklin asked.

"Yes, it does, but the source is independent from the battery we destroyed," Michael answered. "And they can't take it away from the Box, don't worry."

"Why not?" Revere asked.

"Can't they find a way to use the energy of the Box?" Warren asked, clearly worried by the whole thing.

"The Box will automatically be destroyed if anyone tries to access the internal battery by force," Sarah answered. "And to open it the right way, you need to compose a code of six numbers, that only Michael knows."

"They can't use it," Michael nodded.

"I really do hope we never face this situation, but..." Franklin asked slowly. "What happens if Michael dies?"

"We're all stuck here," Michael nodded. "Unless I have the time to give the code to someone else."

"How did the German come to accept this?" Sam asked, frowning slightly. "He seems to be the kind of guy who likes to control everything and everyone around him."

The three scientists exchanged an amused smile.

"He doesn't know, actually," Sarah answered.

The Colonists all propped up a eyebrow.

"How can he not know?" Warren asked, aghast.

"I'm the engineer," answered Michael. "I'm the one in charge of repairing, improving or simply controlling all our equipment. Yuri never checked the Box battery. And as we didn't tell anyone, he doesn't know about it."

"You really did trust your colleagues from the beginning of this mission, didn't you?" Franklin smiled, amused.

"You can't imagine how much," Sarah replied in a wry tone.

"So... your colleagues can't use anything you brought from the future," Warren nodded. "We're all equally equipped here."

"Except Gage has an army, and we have two dozens of riffles and one barrel of powder," replied Revere.

"That's not what I meant," replied Warren, rolling his eyes.

"So..." Sarah said slowly, thinking hard. "We have to find out ways to build weapons with just what we have here. With very little equipment, and basic compounds..."

"We have an engineer," Michael said, pointing at himself, before turning his attention towards James and Sarah," and we have a chemist and a physicist. Or well, a physicist who is also able to work on chemistry," he added, winking at Sarah.

She smiled in response.

"Surely we can find something!" Michael added.

"What then?" Revere asked him.

"Hey, don't ask me," Michael protested, nodding to Sarah. "She's the brain here, it's not me!"

They laughed, before turning towards Sarah.

"We'll give you what you need to work," Sam told her.

She nodded slowly, still lost in thoughts, before turning towards James.

"Do you remember your basics in chemistry?" she asked.

"Well enough," he answered. "It depends on what you're going to ask."

"Would you be able to produce gunpowder?" she asked him.

James crossed his arms before his chest, lying back in his chair, thinking hard.

"I reckon it's a rather simple reaction," he said slowly, nodding his head. "Basically, it's a combustion of potassium nitrates, carbon and sulphur..."

"Can you make some?" asked Sam.

James nodded.

"I think so. We'll need saltpetre, coal, and sulphur. We'll need a bit of engineering too," he added, turning towards Michael. "We'll need to work with powders."

Michael nodded slowly.

"I should be able to do the trick," he answered confidently.

There was a rather long silence, before Sarah would take a quill, some ink and a piece of paper, to write down what James had required.

She froze, and remained motionless for a moment, her brow furrowed in reflection.

"We'll need soap as well," she said.

Everyone around the table frowned.

"Why would you need soap?" Franklin asked her.

"We'll need water, and sulphur..." she went on, ignoring Franklin's question. " And saltpetre as well again... And we'll need equipment to make a distillation..."

"Wait, wait, wait..." James stopped her. "You're not thinking about what I think you're thinking, right?"

She propped up an eyebrow.

"It depends on what you're thinking about..."

James's eyes grew wide.

"Bloody hell, you are!" he breathed. "Are you mad? You'll make us all blow up, that's all you'll manage to do!"

"You have so much faith in my capacities," she replied wryly, writing down the list of what they would need again.

"What are you talking about?" Kelly asked them. "What is it about soap?"

"Are you talking about nitro-glycerine?" Michael asked slowly, clearly fearing the answer.

"Yes, I am," Sarah answered.

Michael blinked.

"That's _way_ too complicated for us..."

"No, it's not," Sarah reassured him, her voice perfectly confident.

"It hasn't been invented yet, and there's a reason for it," James replied.

"What is this nitro... thing?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Explosives," Sarah simply answered.

"Like gunpowder?" Warren asked her.

She shook her head.

"No, it's a liquid. And it's much more powerful than gunpowder."

"And it's extremely dangerous to make, and to transport..." James said.

"Everything is complicated about it..." Michael protested as well.

"But it's efficient," she replied.

James winced.

"I can't believe we're talking about making explosives..."

Michael smiled sadly at him.

"We don't have a choice, James."

"I know... Still, nitro-glycerine..."

"We could use it to destroy bridges, or roads..." Sarah reassured him.

" _If_ we manage to produce some without blowing up!" James snapped.

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"We can still give it a try. I don't think the others will be able to produce some. It would give us an advantage"

"Or we could make the entire street explode," James replied.

"We're not going to make the street explode," Sarah assured him.

"It sounds powerful," Kelly pointed out.

"It is," Sarah nodded. "It's dangerous."

Sam nodded.

"We trust you," he said slowly. "Do it. Tell us what you need, and we'll get it for you."

She nodded.

"We'll need to work on it," she said, looking at James and Michael. "We'll tell you what we need, as soon as we'll have find out a way to produce it as safely as possible."

Sam nodded, taking a glimpse at the list.

James heaved a sigh, looking out by the window, though he couldn't see anything, as shadows had already fallen upon the world by then. Night had covered the town, and James merely stared blankly at the black veil that seemed to cover the dirty glass. He wondered what his colleagues were doing in Gage's house...

* * *

Yuri was surprised to see John Adams in the hall of the Governor's House. The gentleman politely nodded to him, though he clearly wasn't particularly pleased to see him. Yuri wondered if he was already working with his cousin... Probably not though, if he was in Gage's house. The scientist nodded politely as well, waiting for the General to arrive.

After a moment, Gage finally walked down the stairs, focusing at first his attention on Adams.

" _Mr. Adams,"_ he said in the polite and yet cold intonation that never left his voice. " _Thank you for seeing me on short notice._ "

" _Happy to be of service,_ " Adams answered, shaking hands with the General, though he was clearly not-at-ease.

Gage turned towards the scientist.

"Thank you for coming, Dr. Einbrecher. I reckon you have come to talk to me about your work?"

"Yes, General."

"I will see you in a minute. You can come in, and wait with us of course. There is nothing secret in what Mr. Adams and I will discuss."

The three men entered Gage's office, each of them taking a seat around the massive wooden desk.

" _I'm told you're a man of the People,_ " Gage told Adams. " _Public Defender?"_

" _Yes, I believe in the right to counsel, Sir,_ " the lawyer answered. " _I also have an interest in the Constitutional Law._ "

Gage gave him a poisoned-honey smile, looking down at his desk, and resting his fingertips upon several papers on the left of the wooden surface.

" _Here on my desk is a copy of your licence to practice law. Harvard was it? You passed the bar with honour, that's impressive, even for a provincial college. Next to that..._ "

Gage paused briefly, moving slowly his fingers over another paper further on the right of the desk.

" _... is the deed to your family farm in the country and beside that..._ "

His fingers moved slowly above his desk again, before resting on the papers on the right.

" _... the deed to your home here, in Boston._ "

John Adams stared at the General for a while, his brow slightly furrowed.

" _Are you threatening me in some way?_ " he asked Gage slowly.

Gage gave him a little smile.

" _I want you to understand how easy it is for me to extinguish what you've built for yourself here._ "

John stared at him, completely lost.

" _I..._ " he stuttered. " _I don't see why you'd want to do that._ "

Gage stared intensely at the lawyer before him.

" _Your cousin,_ " he answered calmly, though his voice was colder than before. " _Samuel Adams. He seems to possess a will for disregard for what you and I both know a civilized society rely upon most: Law and Order._ "

Adams shifted in his chair, before leaning a bit towards Gage. And as he was speaking again, his voice was getting angrier and angrier with his growing outrage.

" _General Gage, tell me... Where does your sense of law and order factor into these forced evictions you and your troops have been inflecting upon this community?_ "

" _Mr. Adams..._ " Gage tried to calm him down, though his tone sounded annoyed.

Indeed, the General didn't like very much the lawyer's tone. But John went on anyway, too angry to care.

" _Or the man who was flogged in Townhouse Square without any semblance of due process?_ "

" _Mr. Adams..._ "

" _Is this how you treat loyal British citizens?_ "

" _Not British, they are Colonists,_ " Gage replied coldly, staring intensely at Adams. " _And all of you will be treated however I see fit until you learn to submit to your King._ "

There was a deafening silence, during which the two men merely stared into each other's eyes. Gage leaned towards John, speaking in a firm and slow tone.

" _Where I come from, bloodlines matter. Convince your cousin to come to his senses. You have a lot at stake._ "

Gage finally noticed Yuri's stare set upon him, whilst John Adams was remaining speechless.

"Does your work progress as scheduled, doctor?" the General asked the scientist.

Yuri struggled to swallow.

"I'm afraid we will not be able to use the battery of the Box as planned," he said slowly.

Gage's lips twitched with frustration.

"Why?" he merely asked.

"It would seem that Sarah and the others had planned everything meticulously. I don't know how they did it, nor when but... they have secured the battery, with a code. And I don't know the right combination."

"Can't you break the chest open?"

"I'm afraid that if we try to force it, the battery will be automatically destroyed. It's useless."

Gage nodded slowly.

"We can still help you in other ways," Yuri reassured the military man.

"I'm sure you will help me, doctor. I wouldn't see the point in protecting you anymore if you were useless, you see?"

Yuri nodded.

"I understand perfectly, sir."

"Good."

Gage stood up, signalling the two men that it was time for them to take their leave, and both Yuri and John stood up as well.

" _I believe our business here is done. Good evening, gentlemen_."

The two men left the room, exchanging a scared look. Both of them were swimming in dangerous waters indeed...

* * *

John Adams opened the door of Paul Revere's workshop. Above his head, he could hear the sound of voices talking. The man posted outside had let him in with a quick nod of the head, recognizing him easily. Judging by the surveillance on the house, and the sound of a woman's voice coming from above his head, John easily guessed that the scientists were hidden there. He heaved a sigh.

Sam appeared at the top of the stairs. He frowned slightly as he was recognizing his cousin, and he walked slowly down the stairs to join John.

" _You have to get out of here, now,_ " John told his cousin bluntly.

Sam grabbed his pistol, and sat down on the stairs, before starting to clean meticulously his firearm.

" _Since when are you so concerned with my safety?_ " he asked.

John looked at him, his eyes shining with fear. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly shaking.

" _Gage is coming for you,_ " he merely warned Sam.

" _I understand that._ "

Sam was calm, a determined glint was shining in his dark eyes. He stood up, and walked past his cousin, walking casually towards a table.

He didn't seem afraid. He seemed conscious of the risks though, he seemed to understand what all this meant, to understand how dangerous the situation was for him. But he just didn't seem to care. John stared at him for a moment.

How could he not care...?

" _You'll be shot dead in the streets,_ " John told him angrily. " _A damn murder, is that what you want?_ "

Sam turned towards him, and stared right back at him in the eyes.

" _I want Justice, John. Same as you._ "

He leaned against the table, still staring at his cousin. John shook slowly his head.

" _You and your band of thugs, you have this,_ " he said, pointing at the muskets aligned on a shelf next to them.

"You're forgetting the help of three scientists coming from the future," Sam pointed out, but his cousin merely ignored him.

" _...while Gage has the British Empire. An endless supply of weapons, trained soldiers, a navy..._ _Doesn't that scare the hell out of you?_ "

" _Yes,_ " Sam answered earnestly.

There was a deafening silence, during which John and Sam merely stared at each other. Sam clenched his jaws, shaking slowly his head.

" _But I can't just stand there, and do nothing,_ " he told John through gritted teeth.

John swallowed loudly, before nodding slowly.

" _We need a better plan,_ " he said.

Sam narrowed his eyes, walking closer to him.

" _I can help,_ " John told him in a softer voice.

Sam nodded, a small smile curving up his lips.

" _Alright then._ "

They exchanged a smile, and none of them noticed Sarah looking at them from the top of the stairs, a smile curving up her red lips as well.

Things were finally starting to take shape...

* * *

John Hancock was taking risks. All his life he had lived like this, taking risks as a merchant, but now he was taking risks with his own life as well, and he couldn't deny that it was quite new to him. If Gage learned where he was heading, he would be in trouble, big trouble. He silently walked through the dusty street, taking care at hiding his face as much as he could with his hat and the collar of his coat. It was just dawn, and yet it was already almost too hot for him to support the warmth of his long blue coat.

He stopped before Paul Revere's workshop, but a man blocked his way before he could reach the doorknob.

"What do you want to Mr. Revere?" the man asked, with a heavy Scottish accent.

"I'm John Hancock," the merchant replied in a low and slow tone. "And I need to talk to three of my friends who are in hiding here."

"No one is hiding here."

"My good man, I'm not stupid. I know they're here. So let me get inside."

The Scottish nodded, before opening the door. In the workshop, Revere, Sam, Warren, Franklin and the three scientists were talking around a table, eating their breakfast.

Sam frowned at the sight of the businessman, standing up quickly.

"What do you want?" Sam asked.

He turned towards the scientists quickly, clenching his jaws.

Hancock knew they were here now...

"I simply wanted to talk to the scientists."

Sam turned towards him again, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"And why would you want to talk to them?"

"I don't reckon it's any of your business, Mr. Adams."

Sam closed the space between them, their chests now almost touching, their faces merely inches apart, and he glowered at Hancock, his dark eyes burning with threat.

"You'd better leave them alone."

"Sam..."

The two men turned towards Sarah, who had stood up and was walking towards them.

"Leave him alone, please," she asked Sam in a soothing voice.

Sam heaved a sigh, before taking a step back. Hancock relaxed noticeably.

"What can we do for you, Mr. Hancock?" Sarah asked him kindly.

"I was merely coming here to make sure you were all fine, and that you had everything you needed," he answered in a soft tone as well.

Sarah smiled.

"We're fine, thank you. We should be safe enough here for a while."

"Gage is looking for you..."

"We know. It's okay."

Hancock nodded slowly, before taking some money out of his pocket.

"Take it," he said, handing her the leathery bag that was chiming with the sound of coins. "In case you need anything."

"Mr. Hancock..." Sarah tried to protest.

"Just... take it," Hancock shushed her.

Sarah took the money, smiling.

"Thank you," she merely said.

"If you need anything, you know where I live."

Her smile widened.

"We'll see each other again soon enough, Mr. Hancock," she answered, her voice cloaked in mystery.

But Hancock didn't ask for more details. He guessed he would understand her words sooner or later.

"Take care of yourselves," he told the three friends, who all thanked him in unison.

He started towards the door, closely followed by Sam, who's jaws were still tightly clenched. Before Hancock could walk away in the street, Sam grabbed his arm, and pressed him against the wall outside Revere's workshop.

"If you're talking to anyone about where they are," Sam warned him through gritted teeth, his voice shaking with threat. "If I learn that you've talked to Gage about anything concerning them, I'll break your neck. Am I clear?"

Despite how scared he was before the wrath that had ignited Sam's dark eyes, Hancock held his stare, resisting his urge to flinch.

"Mr. Adams, they are my friends as well. Now, I may not be as reckless as you, I'm not the kind of man who would betray his friends. I just wanted to help."

Sam let go slowly of him, his expression still menacing.

"Don't come back here."

Hancock walked away, straightening his coat.

Somehow, he had a bad feeling, a feeling that something terrible was coming for him...

He didn't notice the Red Coat who was watching him walk through the street from afar.

* * *

"There's no way I can do that."

"I thought you were _the_ engineer."

"Doesn't mean my name is MacGyver."

"I can't work without distillation. And by distillation, I mean a more precise technique than the one used to produce liquor."

"I understood that, Sarah. And what I'm telling you is that I have no idea how to do what you want."

Sarah and Michael stared at each other, while the door opened on Sam and John Adams. John shook hands with Revere, Franklin, Warren and the three scientists, before sitting around the wooden table, just like the others.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, putting down the bag full of apples he had just bought, and sitting down as well.

"Sarah and Michael are bickering, as usual," James merely answered, picking up an apple, and biting fiercely into the fruit.

"I do beg your pardon?" Sarah protested, propping up an eyebrow. "You and Michael act like an old-married couple!"

Franklin turned to Sam, unable to hide his amusement.

"Apparently, they are facing a few technological problems," Franklin told Sam.

"What kind?"

"The main problem is," Michael answered, struggling to keep his voice steady as he was still angry at Sarah, "the form of glass that we have the capacity to produce here doesn't possess a sufficient resistance to heat to be used in the fabrication of nitro-glycerine. Which means, that we can't produce any."

"Of course we can," Sarah replied.

Michael breathed deeply, trying to calm down.

"Do you _ever_ listen to me?"

"I am listening to you, Michael."

"We _can't_ produce nitro-glycerine."

"Not with this glass, we can't," Sarah replied. "But with the one we brought with us, we can."

Michael and James both blinked.

"You're not serious?" James breathed.

"Why not?" Sarah shrugged.

Warren frowned.

"How will you get it?" he asked naively.

Sarah shrugged again, taking an apple as well.

"We steal it," she answered in the most natural way.

Sam propped up an eyebrow.

"And..." he asked slowly. "How do you propose to enter into one of the most secured house of Boston?"

"And to get out of it with all your equipment?" added Franklin.

"I've never said I had thought about all the details yet," she replied, her voice still full of confidence.

Sam couldn't refrain a smile.

"And I thought you were supposed to be the wise one here," he said, teasing her.

She propped up an eyebrow.

"I reckon James would fit much more to the job."

"And here, the blame falls down on the Englishman again," James sighed with a smile.

They all laughed softly.

"There are other things though, that must be discussed," Franklin said.

"There are indeed," Sam nodded, swallowing his mouthful of fruit. "John seems to have a plan."

"An idea," corrected his cousin.

"What kind of idea?" Franklin asked, clearly interested.

"I don't think that we can... handle this on our own," John said. "We must unite."

"Many in Boston support us already," Revere answered.

But John shook his head.

"We must create a consortium, all of us, the thirteen colonies. Nobody in England will listen to the City of Boston, but if we can convince the other Colonies to join..."

"Then our voice can be heard," completed Sam, nodded in agreement.

"How do you propose to organize this?" Warren asked him.

"I have friends in the other Colonies," John answered. "I'll write to them, and ask for a meeting."

Franklin nodded.

"You're right. Unison is our only chance. Divided, we will fall."

Sarah, James and Michael exchanged a glance.

Things were set in motions, at last...


	15. Of Enemies And Friends

**Here comes a new chapter! Hope you like it!**

 **Next update on Sunday. I'm back at University, so it's gonna be easier for me to update during the weekend from now on I think.**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **I'd really like to know what you think about my story so far, guys. It's been a while since I've received any review, and so it's hard for me to know if you're satisfied with what I'm writing. I welcome all suggestions, and I'd really like to know if you want me to change something, or to deepen a part of my story, if you would like me to talk more about something (or someone) or less about something (or someone)... or if so far it's balanced enough and you just want me to keep writing this story this way. If you have any requests I'm ready to take them as well... It's not as if this was read by 400 people (I knew it when I started to write this fic that it wouldn't interest lots of people, and that's perfectly fine by me, it's not the point, I'm not complaining about the number of readers here, it doesn't matter if you're 400 or just one, I'm still trying to do my best for you to find this story interesting), but thus I don't have any feedback on what I'm doing, and though I'm clearly writing this because I love writing about Sons Of Liberty, I'm also writing for you all, guys! And even if you're not many, I still really want you to enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoy writing it. So please, tell me what you think. Tell me if you want me to change something... or if everything is alright (I hope you'll tell me everything is alright, but... ^^)!**

 **Right, okay, enough talking, now it's time to read, right? ;)**

* * *

 **Of Enemies And Friends**

Hancock arranged his wig one last time. He had been warned that General Gage and his Major were heading towards his house. Actually, by now, he was in the hall of the merchant's house, at Beacon Hill. It could mean nothing good for him, this impromptu visit of the General... What if he knew that he had seen the scientists... Hancock shook his head in silence. No, he couldn't know, how could he?

Hancock straightened his clothes again, before walking towards the door of his office, taking a deep breath before diving into the sea full of sharks that awaited him behind the door. He put on his most polite smile, and nodded to his valet to open the heavy wooden door. And towards his doom, he walked...

" _General Gage, what a rare and unexpected honour,_ " Hancock greeted the Governor in his most honeyed tone.

" _Mr. Hancock._ "

The gentlemen shook hands.

" _I've been held and mesmerized by your Indian chief,_ " said Gage, pointing at a painting upon the wall. " _Isn't he magnificent, Mr. Pitcairn?_ "

" _Oh, indeed..._ " the Major nodded.

" _I've met such fierce men during the French Indian War._ "

Hancock nodded, and seized the occasion of talking about something he could have in common with Gage. He started to describe the painting, in an excessive manner as he always did when it came to art, and soon Gage turned away.

Hancock merely followed the General through the Hall. He couldn't allow himself to be in bad terms with this powerful man after all. Gage then focused on Hancock's piano, and the merchant seized a new occasion to show his fortune to the military man.

" _Hmm... That is my forte piano, Sir. From Germany. We often have recitals in the evening. Perhaps you and your wife would care to join one evening?"_

Gage hummed absentmindedly a small smile on his lips.

" _My wife plays,_ " he answered.

" _Does she, Sir?_ "

Gage walked to Hancock's office, without any invitation. A small smile formed on Pitcairn's face as he was watching at Hancock looking for Gage.

" _This way, Mr. Hancock,_ " the Major indicated, pointing at Hancock's office.

They all walked into the merchant's office, and the General started to walk through the room, examining the decoration.

" _It is a wonderful thing for us all to have a man of your stature governing in Boston,_ " Hancock told him in his most charming voice. " _Your predecessor, Sir..._ _May I speak plainly_?"

" _You may,_ " nodded Gage.

" _Hutchinson was in-over his head. He had no business sense, he had no sense at all. Well, as you know... governing Boston is not easy. You need to apply the whip when necessary._ "

Hancock examined carefully the General's reaction to his words, following the military man as he wandered through the room.

" _Yes..._ " merely answered Gage with a small smile.

Encouraged by Gage's almost-invisible smile, Hancock went on, his voice more polite and honeyed than ever.

" _But Sir,_ this _is a City not without its advantages._ "

Gage walked to the merchant's desk, looking at the painting of Hancock that covered the wall above the wooden furniture. He ignored Hancock as the gentleman was noticing his glance towards the picture, and was beginning to describe it thoroughly. Instead of listening to the businessman, Gage sat down on the comfortable chair before the desk. Noticing the General's disinterest for his painting, or simply being done with his explanations, Gage couldn't quite tell, Hancock sat down on the corner of the desk, leaning towards Gage and speaking in a low and slow voice, that was extremely serious all of a sudden.

" _Times have been very tough for Boston merchants,_ " Hancock told him.

Gage let escape a little chuckle from his thin lips.

" _I can see that..._ " he answered in an amused tone, looking around him again at the richly decorated room.

But Hancock didn't flinch before Gage's wry tone, and went on, still deadly serious.

" _I have had great fortune, Sir. To be able to... do quite well in the past. Because you see, General,_ " he added, whispering all of a sudden. " _I am_ very _good at making money. And as an Englishman, I have the liberty to be able to share my profits..._ "

Gage suddenly stood up, his glance icy cold.

" _Mr. Hancock, I did not come to do some sordid deal._ "

Hancock nodded slowly.

"Of course, General. Believe me I have never intended to be impolite..."

"I came here to ask you a favour," Gage interrupted him.

Hancock wore his most charming smile again.

"Of course, General. Speak, please. It would be an honour to help a man of your stature."

Gage let a short silence set between them, before speaking again, in a very slow tone.

"I have heard you and Sarah Hugo were... friends."

Hancock's smile flinched for a brief second.

"We were, General. We were..." Hancock answered in a breathy tone.

"I have also heard that you are in very good terms with Michael Redcraft and James Williamson."

"I was indeed, Sir."

"You may know that I am looking for them."

"I've heard about that, General. What an awful betrayal they have inflected upon all of us!"

Gage and Hancock stared at each other for a moment. Hancock's heart was beating so fast, and he was struggling so hard to keep his breathing steady and his expression unreadable before Gage's intense stare...

"You wouldn't know anything about their hiding place, Mr. Hancock? Would you?" Gage asked slowly.

"Why would I?" replied Hancock, shrugging.

Gage sighed.

"I'm sure I do not need to remind you how traitors are dealt with these days, Mr. Hancock."

Hancock couldn't help but flinch this time, his Adam apple pulsing fiercely.

"General, I can assure you I do not know _anything_ about the scientists," he answered, clearly terrified by now.

"What did you and Samuel Adams talk about yesterday when you went to Paul Revere's workshop then?" Gage asked bluntly.

Hancock blinked, opening and closing his mouth several times, lost in pure shock.

How the hell could Gage know...?!

"General," Hancock said once he had found his voice again, "I can recognize that whilst Governor Hutchinson was here, I had to deal with Mr. Adams once or twice..."

Gage narrowed his eyes.

"But I can assure you that he is _absolutely_ not a friend of mine," Hancock went on. "Actually, I was there to ask him to pay me back. He has debts you see..."

Hancock took a sheepish expression.

"I have to admit that... in the past I have... loaned him some money. It was very difficult times for Boston, General, very difficult times indeed... I took him in pity, really. I didn't know of course, at the time, what his convictions were concerning the Crown. And now he refuses to pay back the money he has borrowed, which is not particularly surprising, judging by the character, I guess..."

Gage nodded slowly. The story was plausible, and the merchant before him was clearly a coward. Gage loathed him with all his heart... But he couldn't find any reason to make him believe that Hancock was lying to him at this moment. Still, he didn't like the man, and he for sure didn't trust him... and he loved the house.

Gage walked around the desk and sat down in Hancock' chair, before turning to Pitcairn.

" _This will do,_ " he told his Major.

" _Yes, Sir,_ " Pitcairn nodded.

Hancock looked at the two military men, his scared eyes going back and forth from one to the other.

" _This will do what?_ " he asked, completely lost.

" _Grenadiers!_ " Pitcairn called his men.

" _This will do what?_ " Hancock asked again.

" _I trust you are aware of the new laws put in place,_ " Gage said slowly.

" _No, Sir, I am not,_ " Hancock answered, though it was becoming harder for him to refuse to see the truth and admit what was going on in his house.

" _Mr. Hancock,_ " Gage told him with a cold, and somewhat bored voice before the gentleman's distress, " _I am leaving you of your house._ "

Hancock stared blankly at him for a moment, before shaking slowly his head, aghast.

" _You...? I'm sorry, Sir, I..._ " the merchant stuttered.

" _You may leave, Mr. Hancock,_ " Gage interrupted him, now positively bored.

" _Leave where?_ "

Pitcairn took a step towards him. A desperate smile curved up Hancock's lips.

" _I won't leave,_ " the business man stated.

Pitcairn turned to his men at the door of the office.

" _Grenadiers._ "

The two Red Coats stepped forwards. Hancock turned towards Gage again, despair shaking his voice.

" _General Gage, perhaps we could come..._ "

The two soldiers seized him, and started to drag him towards the door, despite Hancock's struggle to free himself from their grasps.

" _Okay, take... Unhand me,_ " Hancock ordered. " _Gentlemen, unhand... This is outrageous, General!_ "

" _The King thanks you for your service_ ," Gage merely answered, leaning in his comfortable chair.

Hancock was pushed through the hall despite his loud protests, and thrown out of his house and into the street. He fell and remained for a moment motionless there, lying down on the pavement, struggling to breathe. He couldn't believe this was happening to him.

He slowly rose from the ground, straightened his clothes, and looked around at the men staring at him in dismay. He could read disdain in the eyes of some of them. He clenched his jaws.

He didn't have a choice. Gage wanted to be an enemy, well so be it then...

He took off his wig, and threw it aside, walking quickly down the street.

He didn't have a home anymore. But he still had money, and he intended to use it.

* * *

"So the best plan you can come up with is to wait that Yuri and the others walk out of the house and sneak inside from the backdoor to steal three entire chests?"

Sarah heaved a sigh.

"All I'm saying is that we _need_ better equipment than what we can have by buying it here," she answered. "We have to find a way to steal all the things we need. This is a problem for the production of explosives, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be a problem for everything we're going to try to produce."

"It's very dangerous," Franklin protested. "If you are caught, you'll be hanged."

"In the best scenario," James nodded gloomily.

"You're very pessimistic," Sarah replied.

"No, they're right," Sam told her. "It's too dangerous."

"Without the proper glassware, there's no way we can get anything done."

Sam, swallowed his mouthful of bread, before answering in a tone that would not accept any other arguments.

"Then you'll get nothing done."

She frowned, and he looked up at her.

"We're not endangering your lives for something like that," Sam added. "We'll find another way."

"But..."

"No. Drop this whole story about explosives. Your lives are not worth it."

Sarah looked down at her bowl of soup, remaining silent.

John Adams, Revere, Warren and Kelly exchanged a glance.

Sarah finally set her eyes on the window, and looked at the deep blue sky. They had managed to get to the Green Dragon without being noticed, and she was grateful for the change of place. She had finally had the occasion of breathing some fresh air, and feel the sun on her face. And now, all the Sons of Liberty were gathered in a private room of the inn, and were eating and talking about their plans, their ideas, the information they had learnt... And she felt quite frustrated. She didn't like being given orders. She didn't like it when decisions were taken for her, and Sam seemed to be ruling the whole secret society in a very strict way. And she couldn't deny that it was a good thing, after all, a rebellion needed to be organized to avoid chaos. But she wasn't under his command. She was here on her own accord, and though she was undoubtedly in debt towards him, she didn't like this authoritative tone of his. But she bit her tongue, and drank up more soup instead of replying.

Suddenly a man knocked on the opened door, and walked in, closely followed by a richly dressed gentleman with dark-blond hair.

Everyone in the room froze at the sight of John Hancock.

" _Good evening, Gentlemen,_ " Hancock said, taking a few more steps into the room, and turning towards Sam. " _Mr. Adams._ "

Sam kept on eating, ignoring Hancock.

" _Mr. Adams,_ " the merchant called louder, his jaws slightly clenching.

Sam finally looked up, focusing on the gentleman before him. He stopped eating, and put his loaf of bread down on the table next to his plate. Hancock and him silently stared at each other for a moment, before Hancock would speak, passion and determination making his voice shake.

" _I'm in. Whatever you want, whatever you need... I am with you._ "

Sam grabbed his bread again, and torn a piece apart, before eating, though this time, he was listening.

" _And why should we trust you?_ " he asked Hancock. " _How do we know you're not working for Gage now?_ "

" _I resent that,_ " Hancock merely answered, feeling a lump climb up his throat.

Sam picked up his pint and drank up.

" _Why this sudden change of heart?_ "

Hancock stared at him intensely in the eyes for a moment, before answering in a sad and yet cold voice.

" _He took my house._ "

Little laughs rose from the large group and echoed throughout the room. But Sam, Revere, Warren, Franklin, John Adams and the three scientists didn't laugh, in fact they didn't even smile. Sarah closed her eyes for a brief moment. When she opened them again, her blue irises drowned in tears, she made a movement to apologize, to reassure him, to tell him she was sorry for everything he was going through... and in the corner of her eyes she saw that Warren and Franklin had the same intention. But Sam spoke again before any of them could make a sound.

" _Of course he did,_ " Sam said in a rather cold tone. " _Look at you..._ "

"Sam..." Sarah tried to interrupt him.

But he ignored her, and went on anyway

" _I mean... you're only here now because you've been...bullied out of your fantasy world. You are_ not _one of us. So why don't you get out?_ "

Hancock clenched his fists.

" _Get out_ ," Sam repeated, his voice icy cold.

"Mr. Adams," Hancock answered slowly, "if I'm here before you today, it is your fault."

"My fault?" asked Sam, surprised.

"Yes, your fault. You see, yesterday, when I came to see if the scientists were alright, you talked to me in the street. Do you remember?"

Sam furrowed his brow.

"I don't see your point, Hancock."

"Someone saw us," Hancock answered, his voice shaking. "Someone working for Gage. He asked me what we were talking about you and I."

Sam's eyes grew slightly wider, and he parted his lips with shock.

"It's impossible..."

"He came into my house today, and he asked me why I was talking to you. He thought I knew where the scientists were hiding."

Sam and Sarah exchanged a terrified look.

"What did you tell him?" Sarah asked him.

Hancock brushed her remark away with a quick gesture of his hand.

"I lied. I told him I had no idea about where you were hiding, and that I had come to see Mr. Adams to force him to pay his debts. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard for him to believe that you owed me money and were refusing to pay me back."

Hancock stared at Sam once again.

"I can be useful. I want Gage out of this town just as much as you do. Let me help you."

Sam looked down at his plate, thinking hard, thoughts twirling in his head. He shook slowly his head. He didn't trust him. How could he? Hancock wanted to fight Gage for selfish reasons, not because he wanted Justice, but because he wanted back something Gage had stolen from him. He wanted only to serve his own interests here, as usual. How could he trust such a man when the life of his friends were at stake? And anyway, what could Hancock do for them?

He hadn't noticed Sarah standing up and walking towards Hancock. He saw tears shining in her deep blue eyes, and she wrapped her arms around the merchant.

"I'm sorry, John," she said softly. "It's all our fault, I'm so sorry."

Hancock fought back the tears that were drowning his eyes, and he patted her shoulder.

"It's not your fault. Don't worry yourself about me."

She smiled to him, taking a step back. Both her and Hancock turned towards Sam again.

"We can't leave him like this, Sam," Sarah pleaded. "He defended us."

But Sam shook his head.

"I don't trust him," he said slowly, though his voice was softer than before.

Hancock clenched his fists and jaws again.

"You owe me one," he told Sam with an angry voice.

Sam clenched his jaws as well, his stare cold again.

"I don't owe you anything."

"You do though. I lied for you all!"

"I've never asked anything from you."

"Sam," Sarah told him in a soothing voice. "We can't turn our backs to him. He defended us. If he hadn't lied, we would already all be dead."

A silence shook the room.

"I don't know..." Sam shook his head again.

He looked up at Hancock.

"What could you possibly do for us anyway?"

John Adams suddenly put a hand on Sam's arm.

" _I have a plan,_ " he told his cousin. " _We need him._ "

Sam frowned slightly.

" _For what?_ "he asked.

John looked at Hancock, before speaking again.

" _His money._ "

* * *

Hancock was settled with the scientists and Franklin above Revere's workshop. He had at first complained and declared that he would rent some room downtown, but Sam and Revere had refused. First, because Hancock would most likely be a target for Gage for a while, so it was in his best interests to keep a low-profile. And Sam didn't trust the merchant enough to leave him travel through town alone anyway.

Sam walked down the stairs with Paul, talking about posting more men around the inn and the workshop, to make sure that no spies could come near.

"Sam?"

The two men turned around, and waited for Sarah to walk down the stairs as well.

"May I have a word?" she asked.

"Of course."

Paul nodded and took his leave. Sarah turned towards Sam as he was sitting upon the corner of a table.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"About our equipment..."

He shushed her.

"I said no."

"We don't have a choice."

"I'm not going to let you risk your lives for a piece of glass."

She took a step closer to him, and his heart skipped a beat at the sudden closeness of the their faces.

"Sam," she said slowly, "it's not only because we need this equipment to work. _They_ can use it."

Sam looked intensely at her, losing himself in her blue eyes, clenching his jaws.

"It means that they can produce components, such as explosives, that we can't produce because we don't have the right equipment. They can take a huge advantage here. Now, maybe they won't think about the same things than us. But still, they can create chemical reactions that we'll never be able to reproduce..."

"We can manage without it..."

"No, Sam, we can't."

She put a hand on his upper arm, and she felt her heart accelerating in her ribcage at the contact of his shirt with her fingers. She could feel his tensed muscles under the fabric, and the thought made her lose her breath.

"Trust me," she told him. "In more than two hundred years, Humanity has found many ways of killing people. And I'm pretty sure Yuri will try to create advanced weapons for Gage too. We can't give them such an advantage on us."

She winced, and when she spoke again, her voice was a bit hoarse.

"I know Yoko worked for a while on gases used for military purposes. I don't want to take the risk."

Sam furrowed his brow.

"Gases?"

Sarah nodded.

"I'm afraid two hundred years were not enough to stop men from butchering each other. The use of gases could do thousands of victims."

She shook her head, taking a deep breath.

"Now, I'm not saying that they are enough cruel and selfish to do such thing, and perhaps they won't be able to produce any gas, but... who knows what Yuri will be ready to do to avoid Gage's wrath. I don't want to take the risk."

Sam nodded slowly.

"You'll tell us what you need," he told her, "and we'll get it for you."

"No, we'll take care of it."

"You can't, it's too dangerous."

"That's precisely why _we_ have to go and _you_ must stay here."

"If Gage catches you..."

"Our lives are not important. We're not even supposed to be here. History will go on with or without us... but not without you."

"You're forgetting the fact that _you_ know the future, and _I_ don't," he argued.

She shook her head.

"My life is not important, Sam. I can't let you..."

He suddenly took her face in his hands, and she immediately fell silent at the sensation of his calloused fingers on her smooth skin. They stared at each other, and she drowned in his dark eyes. She couldn't help but notice the withheld tears that he was trying to hide, nor his tightly clenched jaws, nor his pulsing Adam's apple...

"To me it is," he breathed in a shaky whisper.

She couldn't manage to form coherent words on her tongue, and she couldn't stop her lips from parting slightly with shock.

"I can't let you endanger yourself like this," he went on.

She caught him glimpsing at her parted lips, and her heart jumped and went crashing on her ribs. When he spoke again, their faces were so close, she could feel his warm breath on her face.

"And to be honest, it has nothing to do with the fact that you know what is going to happen."

He stroked tenderly her cheek for a moment, before letting go of her face, and dropping his hands to his sides again.

"That's what friends are made for, isn't it?" he said with a sad smile. "To take care of each other. Then this time, let me take care of you, and not the other way around."

He walked away from her, and out of the workshop.

It took Sarah several minutes to be able to breathe normally again.


	16. Chemistry And War

**Here comes a new chapter!**

 **No scene come from the series here.**

 **As I still haven't received any review or PM, I will consider that everything is fine, and will just keep writing this story without changing anything ;)**

 **Next update on Sunday.**

 **I hope you like this chapter. Please, tell me what you think about it :)**

* * *

 **Chemistry And War**

"I am not certain about this."

Hancock looked cautiously at Sarah.

"We don't have a choice," the woman replied.

"Sarah believes that her former colleagues would use this equipment against us," Sam said.

"How?" Warren asked.

"The same way we will use it. To produce chemical compounds that we can use to create advanced weaponry," Sarah replied.

"How can we stop them?" Revere asked her.

"The only way is to steal from them everything they could use."

Michael picked up a piece of paper, a quill and some ink.

"There are three chests that we _have_ to take back from them," he explained.

He started to draw a quick map of the house.

"Two chests are in the living room," Sarah explained, pointing at right room on the map. "The third is in another room in the back of the house."

"The two first contain only laboratory glassware," Michael added. "We will need it, and I'm afraid it's not going to be very discreet to transport these two chests, 'cause the glass is probably going to make lots of noise when we'll transport it."

"Inside the third are bottles of chemical compounds. Some of them are rather dangerous," said James. " I reckon it would be safer _not_ to break anything."

"What if Yuri has reorganized everything, and the chests are not at the same place in the house?" asked Kelly.

But Sarah shook her head.

"Yuri is very organized about everything. And he doesn't like to change his habits. I don't think he will have moved anything when we go there."

"And even if he has, we can recognize the right chests among all those that are in the house," Michael added.

"If I may..." Hancock said slowly. "Isn't it a bit risky for you to go there if Gage is looking for you?"

"It is indeed," Franklin nodded, glancing at the three scientists, his tone wry enough to let everyone know that he wasn't in favour of such a plan.

"We don't have a choice," Sarah answered.

"Actually, we do," Sam protested.

"We need to act now, before they have time to start working on something serious. First they'll need to do exactly what we are doing right now: analyse, organize, make calculations, try to plan how they are going to work, decide what they are going to produce... But as soon as they will have taken these decisions, it will be too late for us to act."

"But... as soon as we will have stolen these items, they will know about it," Warren said slowly, thinking hard.

They all stared at him questioningly.

"I mean that... the disappearance of three big white chests are not going to remain unnoticed by Yuri and his colleagues for long," Warren went on. "And as soon as he will notice that they have disappeared..."

"He will blame you three, and Gage will be even more determined to learn where you are," Sam ended for his friend.

"For now, he doesn't break into every single house of Boston to look for you," Franklin nodded. "But if you steal valuable pieces of equipment that will delay, if not stop the production of weapons... he will not rest before having you all hanged."

"And everyone who will have helped you," Hancock added in a gloomy tone.

"We must find a way to take the items out of the house without the German and his friends noticing anything," Sam said slowly.

"We also have to find out how we are going to transport everything that we will have stolen throughout the town without being caught by the Red Coats," James added.

A smile formed slowly on Sam's lips, and he turned towards Kelly.

"Do you still have this cart of yours?" he asked him. "The one we used to transport alcohol when we helped Hancock with his smuggling?"

Kelly grinned.

"Of course I do."

"Then, that is arranged."

"We also have to find out a way to get into the house," Franklin reminded his friends.

"Our plan still has many flaws," Hancock sighed.

Sam and Paul exchanged a glance, and a small smile appeared on Revere's face.

"Well, I guess we still have plenty of work to do then."

* * *

"You are still decided to come along, aren't you?"

Sarah turned towards Sam.

"There's no choice, you need us."

Sam nodded slowly, though she couldn't fail to notice his clenched jaws and his pulsing Adam's apple.

"It's for tonight, isn't it?" Sarah asked him.

"Your three colleagues are to meet with Gage tonight, at Hancock's house," Sam nodded again. "It's now or never."

"How many soldiers on sentry?"

"Four, apparently."

"Two at the front, two at the back?"

"Two at the front, one at the back, one inside the house."

"This one is going to be complicated to take care of without drawing attention."

"Leave this part to us."

Sarah nodded, though she couldn't help but wince.

"You'll be careful, right?" she asked him, her voice made soft with concern.

"Don't worry about us. We can handle it."

Sarah nodded once more.

"Alright then..."

She walked towards the wooden table where many weapons were lying there: knives, a few swords, pistols... She took a pistol in her hand, weighting it. She hadn't imagined that it was so heavy...

Sam walked behind her, and he put his hand on hers, trying to gently take the pistol away from her.

"You will not need one of these," he told her softly.

Her heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his breath against her ear and her cheek.

"I will though," she answered.

Sam shook his head.

"Give it to me," he told her, and though his voice was still soft, it was firm as well.

"Sam, if the Red Coats find out that we are there, I will have to defend myself..."

"I will be there for this."

She turned around completely, facing him again.

"I don't need a bodyguard."

"You do though," he replied. "Because there's no way I'm letting you have a firearm."

"Why not? Michael and James will have one..."

"But you're not Michael and James."

Sarah glared at him, crossing her arms before her chest.

"Is it because I'm a woman?"

Sam closed his eyes.

"Sarah..."

"I may be a woman, I know how to use a gun."

"I don't want you to have to use one."

He looked at her again.

"Killing someone changes a man," Sam told her, staring at her blue eyes. "I don't want you to go through all that: the guilt, the questions, the nightmares..."

Her expression softened, and she rested her hand on his upper arm.

"Sam, a war is coming, believe me. Trust me on this. War _is_ coming. And you can be sure that when it comes, I will not wait for you all to come back home in a deserted house. I will be on the front line. I don't want to kill anyone, but I will _have_ to. There's no point trying to deny the truth."

"What makes you think for just a second that I will let you risk your life like this?" Sam asked her through gritted teeth.

"You're not my boss, Sam," she replied.

"I'm the one in charge here though."

"I don't need your permission to do anything, Sam," she stated, staring at him. "Don't be mistaken. I am fighting _with_ you, not _for_ you."

She took a step back, her hand leaving his arm, and Sam felt like a piece of him was suddenly missing.

"I need gunpowder," she said, before walking away, crossing Revere's workshop.

Sam looked at her going to the barrel of powder, and recharging her firearm perfectly. She seemed to know what she was doing. He hoped she really did know, though...

* * *

The air was heavy and warm. It was night, but the temperature didn't seem to want to drop. Even the wind blowing through the streets that came from the ocean was hot. Sam Adams swept off the sweat on his forehead.

He had been here for an hour, inspecting the house from outside, looking carefully at the sentries, trying to determine a pattern of any kind in their movements, but the truth was, they barely moved a lot at all. The two sentries at the front door were perfectly still, looking around, sometimes chatting a bit together, but they never went inside, nor tried to call their two comrades. The Red Coat at the back was pacing in a very regular pattern before the wall, back and forth alongside the house. Sometimes he stopped, and remained motionless for a while, before walking again. And finally the soldier inside the house hadn't moved at all for the past hour and was sitting in the living room, in a chair from which he could see both the kitchen (and thus anyone coming in by the backdoor) and the front door. This soldier was going to be a problem, Sam knew it. If they didn't want to see every soldier in Boston run to the house, the two sentries at the front had to remain untouched and unknowing of what was going on in the house, or it would soon seem suspicious that suddenly there were no more Red Coats before the scientists house that was so well guarded all the time. They couldn't enter the house without the sentry at the back of house not noticing though, so they had to get rid of him first. And they also had to get rid of the man in the house, still without the two others in the square noticing anything. Easy...

Suddenly, Kelly and Amos appeared by his side.

"They're leaving," Kelly whispered.

Warren nodded.

"It's now or never," Revere whispered as well.

Sam turned to the three scientists.

"We'll take care of the guards. You keep the cart for now, alright?"

The three of them nodded. Sam leaned towards Michael to whisper in his ear.

"If things go ill, you leave us here."

Michael shook his head.

"Sam..."

"Make her get out of here."

The two men stared at each other for a moment, before Michael would nod slowly. He clenched his jaws.

Now, Michael knew the truth...

"You'd better come back here in one piece," he replied.

Sam smiled in response, before turning towards the house again. He nodded to Kelly, and the two men advanced in the street, out of the Red Coat's sight. In the meantime, Warren and Revere were taking position on the other side of the street. When Sam and Kelly were near enough. Paul started to push Joseph against a wall. The Red Coat turned towards them, allowing Sam and Kelly to hurry towards him, and to knock him out. They hid the unconscious body in an adjacent street, and walked together towards the house, whilst Michael was guiding the cart closer to the house.

Soon, Kelly was helping Sam to climb up to the window of the first floor. Sam climbed up the wall, and Sarah stared at him with her eyes wide with fear and her heart racing in her chest. She could already see him lying dead in the street, his skull broken by the hard pavement... She struggled not to shout at Sam to stop.

Michael stared at her for a moment, before looking at Sam again, but said nothing.

Soon, Sam had reached the window though, and he used a knife to force it opened. He climbed inside, before helping Revere to do the same. Then they were out of sight, and their friends could only wait.

* * *

Sam walked on his tiptoes. He was trying to be silent, and he winced every time the wood under his feet was cracking. He was certain that Paul, right behind him, was doing just the same. They climbed down the stairs slowly. Sarah was right, coming from the staircase, you could have access to the living room without walking into the hall, which meant without being noticed too early by the Red Coat. Sam risked a glimpse over the side of the wall. The soldier was sitting in the middle of the room, and judging by his position, he would see them coming too early for Paul and him to simply knock him out. Sam turned to Paul and shook his head. Paul winced.

It was no good... They needed a distraction, something, anything...

Sam searched his pockets. All he had was a few bullets, and his black powder. He exchanged a glance with Paul, showing him one of the round bullets he had. A little ball of metal. Paul winked at him, and let Sam kneel down next to the door. Sam threw the bullet right before him, and the piece of metal let out a little noise as it fell onto the wooden floor and rolled through the room.

 _Pop!_

The Red Coat frowned, stood up, and headed towards the source of the noise. Sam stood up quickly, ready to seize the soldier. Upon the floor, he could see the shadow of the Red Coat moving in the red light of the fire alit under the mantelpiece. The sound of the soldier's footsteps echoed throughout the silent house. Sam stared right before him, towards the door, his back pinned against the wall.

Only two more steps...

Sam's heart was beating so fast, whilst the adrenaline was rushing through all his body, tensing his muscles and sharpening his mind.

One more step...

Sam could see the tip of the Red Coat's rifle.

He jumped out of the stairs, and grabbed the soldier by the throat, shushing the shout the Red Coat was about to let out. The next second, Paul had hit him hard on the head with the butt of his rifle. The two men heaved a sigh. It was done...

They hurried through the room, and unlocked the backdoor. The next second, Warren , Kelly and the scientists had joined them in the living room while Amos remained with the cart. Sarah and James indicated the two boxes they would need, and they all started to transport laboratory glassware to the cart. Kelly and Warren were, in the meantime, filling up the chests with empty bottles of wine, so that Yuri and the others would not notice that the chests were empty. After less than ten minutes, they moved to an adjacent room, where the chemicals were stored. Sarah, James and Michael took white gloves from a box on the wooden table, and they opened the biggest chest. It was full of bottles made with dark glass, all were labelled with the name of the chemical compound inside.

"None of you touches any of these," Sarah whispered to the Colonists, checking that the bottled were properly closed. "Am I clear?"

They all nodded, and let the three scientists transport the chemicals outside. In less than five minutes, they were ready to go. All left the house...

All, except Sarah.

When he turned around, Sam saw her hurrying upstairs. He cursed her under his breath before running after her. When he reached her, she was in her ancient bedroom, grabbing a bag and putting three boxes inside of it.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked her through gritted teeth, anger burning in his dark eyes.

"'Giving us a reason to have come here," she answered in a whisper.

"What?"

"Sam, how are you going to explain the two unconscious Red Coats if nothing has been stolen. They'll know it's us. But they don't have to know we took the chemicals and everything. Not if we take these with us."

"What is it?"

"Memories," she answered elusively.

Sam walked to the window to take a look out on the street whilst she kept putting items and objects in her bag. Warren caught his glance, and he seemed terrified. The doctor pointed at the street further away, and Sam noticed Red Coats talking there with a merchant.

"Shit," Sam breathed.

He gestured to Warren to go, and the next second, the cart was moving away from the street.

"Sarah, we have to go now," he told the woman. "Two Red Coats are down the street."

"Shit," she breathed as well.

They hurried downstairs again, and walked out of the house by the backdoor.

The two Red Coats were walking towards them, though they hadn't seen them getting out of the house. Sam looked at Sarah's bag. It wasn't a bag from his period at all...

He took her hand, and dragged her in and adjacent alley, before cursing himself. It was a dead-end street, they had nowhere to go...

"Put your bag on the ground," he told her, making her lean against a brick wall.

She did as she was told, and looked up at him.

"What do we do now?"

"Wait here."

He walked back to the entrance of the alley and watched the two soldiers walking down the street. They were checking every single alley.

"Shit," Sam cursed again.

He walked back to Sarah, and threw her hat away, before loosening her hair.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, helping him to free her hair from the tight bun they were imprisoned in.

Sam didn't answer, and instead, he took another step towards her, getting very close to the woman. Their faces were barely inches apart, their chests almost touching with their heavy breathing.

"Forgive me for this," he told her. "It's the only idea I have. Don't hold it against me."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, completely lost.

The noise of the Red Coats was very close by now, and Sam could now see their shadows at the entrance of the alley. He looked at her again, out of breath.

"Sorry," he said again.

Before she could add anything, he had buried his face in her hair, holding her face close to his, though they were not touching, his other arm wrapped around waist. Sarah thought that her heart was going to explode. She finally understood what was going on, and her hands flew up in his hair.

She rested her cheek against his, and he struggled to remain calm, and to keep listening at the sounds of the night despite his pounding heart.

The sound of the Red Coats' footsteps stopped right before the alley.

Nor Sam nor Sarah was moving at all. It was no good, the soldiers were not fooled, Sarah could tell, that was why they had stopped...

"Kiss my neck," she ordered in a barely audible whisper.

"What?" he breathed.

"They're not buying it, Sam. We're not moving at all, that's no good. Kiss my neck."

Sam struggled to swallow, before approaching his lips of her skin. He dropped a shy kiss at first, but then her scent was so intoxicating, and her skin was so soft, and her breathing was so heavy, and the feeling of her skin against his lips sent such delicious shivers up his spine, and the Red Coats...

Sam closed his eyes.

"Damn it," he breathed.

The next second he was pressing hot, opened-mouth kisses down her neck. She took a sharp intake of breath. Sam didn't know if she was faking it, or if she had just let it out, but it set fire to his guts, and he couldn't think anymore, nor control his brain, or his hands that pressed her closer to him, or anything at all actually, he had lost control over everything...

She wrapped her arms around him, and pressed him closer to her as well. They could feel their hearts racing in their chests. He couldn't describe the taste of her skin, it was... perfect.

They vaguely heard the sound of the Red Coats walking away down the street again.

After a while, Sam managed to get enough control over his emotions again to separate his lips from her skin. They looked at each other, out of breath, motionless. Sam finally took a step back, and let go of her. He looked down sheepishly at the ground.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't find a better idea."

"It's okay. It's alright, Sam."

"We should go now. We should get back to Paul's workshop."

She nodded.

"We shouldn't... talk about that to anyone though, right?" she told him.

"Right."

"Especially Michael."

"Why?"

"Because he would murder you for that."

She picked up her bag, and he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, putting her hat on her head again.

"Let's go."

Soon, they had disappeared in the streets again.

* * *

When they got arrested by the Red Coats, James was literally in panic. He felt Michael putting down a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't calm down. It wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to be stopped...

"Show us the cargo," the officer ordered Kelly.

"I don't have any," he replied. "Only my friends here, 's all."

The Red Coats walked closer, and started to examine the men in the back of the cart. James was starting to really, really panic. If he or Michael was recognized they were all dead.

He felt a stare upon him, and he looked up to a young woman standing there in the shadows. In the blink of an eye, he had recognized her graceful face. It was Gage's wife's maid...

And James was pretty sure she had recognized him too...

Shit...

They stared at each other for a moment. James was sure she was going to talk to the Red Coats, and tell them who he was, and then they were all going to be arrested, and...

Suddenly, she was calling the Red Coats for help. The soldiers hurried towards her, abandoning the cart and his occupants. She asked their help to carry a few packets Mrs. Gage would need the next morning. And the soldiers obliged.

As the cart advanced through the night again, and the soldiers carried the bags for the maid towards the General's house, the young woman turned to James one last time. He nodded to her, grinning, and she blushed, before following the soldiers.

He couldn't find out why his heart was beating so fast...

* * *

When they arrived at Revere's workshop, everyone was waiting for them. Michael and James literally ran across the room to wrap their arms around Sarah.

"What. The. Hell. Happened. Into. Your. Head?" asked Michael in a trembling voice.

"I thought about giving us a reason to knock out two Red Coats," she answered.

"You shouldn't have taken so many risks," Franklin admonished her, smiling a relieved smile nonetheless at the sight of his friends all back in one piece.

"What did you take?" James asked her.

She gave him the bag, and he emptied it on the nearest table. It was only a few books, three boxes, a few papers... Tears appeared into James's eyes.

"I didn't think we would get these back," he breathed.

Michael picked up the box upon which his name was written, a touched smile curving up his lips.

"Me neither," he answered.

"What is it?" Hancock asked them.

"Things from home," James answered.

Sam picked up a heavy book, with a leathery black cover. He had to read several times the title to believe it.

 _The American Revolutionary War_

Sarah took it from him quickly, and before he could protest, she had thrown it into the flames.

"What...?" Sam started, but she cut him off.

"You can't know. None of you can know."

James and Michael threw two more books away.

"The rest is safe enough, I guess," Michael nodded slowly, deep in thoughts.

He put down the box upon the table again.

"Did you take back all that you will need?" Amos asked them.

"Yes, we've got everything."

"Let's get everything out of the cart," Sarah proposed, and they all nodded.

But before they could walk out of the room, Michael stopped Sam.

"Just a word?" he asked Sam.

The Colonist nodded, and remained behind with Michael.

"Look, I'm gonna be direct about this, Sam," the scientist told him.

Sam merely nodded in response, wondering what the hell all this was about anyway. Michael stared intensely at him, a threatening glint alit in his eyes.

"Don't go near Sarah."

Sam froze.

"I've seen the way you look at her," Michael went on. "Don't you even dare think about it."

Sam closed his eyes, wincing.

"Michael..."

"No, you listen to me!" Michael ordered, his voice shaking. "We're not from here. You can't be together, and I won't let you hurt her. And if you're trying to be with her, that's all you're going to be able to do in the end. Do you understand? There's no way I'm letting you break her heart. She's like a sister to me."

"I understand," Sam nodded reassuringly. "I know perfectly well where she belongs, and I don't intend to hurt her. I've never expected anything."

"You'd better keep it this way. It would be very unpleasant to me to have to punch you in the face."

Sam couldn't help but smile weakly.

"You shouldn't worry about that," Sam reassured him.

"You're wrong, I'm perfectly right to worry about that. I know what you're intentions are..."

"You don't know what my intentions are. Or else you wouldn't have found necessary to have this talk with me."

"Don't break her heart. This whole thing is complicated enough without her falling in love with a guy from the past."

Michael heaved a sigh, passing a hand on his tired face.

"I'm not even mentioning the fact that it would change the past," the scientist went on. "Because obviously you were not even supposed to meet..."

Sam nodded.

"Don't worry, I won't try anything."

"Good."

Michael walked away, joining his friends, but Sam remained alone for a moment.

He could feel his heart breaking...

* * *

When Yuri entered into the house, he couldn't believe his eyes. He called for help immediately, while he knelt down next to the motionless soldier who laid on the ground. Yuri heaved a sigh as he was feeling the Red Coat's breath on his hand. Whilst the other soldiers were taking care of their comrade, Yuri climbed up the stairs. Someone had broken into their house, and he knew what they were looking for...

A moment later, Gage and Pitcairn, along with several more soldiers were in the house as well. The General's expression was full of wrath, though he was clearly trying to control himself.

"What was stolen?" he asked Yoko and Pablo.

"We don't know yet, Sir," Yoko answered slowly.

"Well then, you'd better start looking for what is missing," Gage snapped aggressively.

The two scientists nodded, but Yuri walked down the stairs right at this moment.

"General, I know what have been stolen," Yuri told him.

"What did they take?"

"Memories."

Gage frowned hard.

"It was your colleagues, wasn't it?" Pitcairn asked Yuri.

"Undoubtedly, Sir, yes."

Yuri finished to walk down the stairs, and he looked at Gage again.

"When we came here," Yuri explained to the two military men, "we were allowed to bring here with us a few personal items. Pictures of our family, friends, a few books..."

"That's all that was stolen?" Gage asked, clearly not convinced.

"Sir, it's the only items that connect us with her former life, our real life. It's our only connection with the future. It's all we have left. I understand that they wanted to get them back."

Gage nodded slowly.

"Right..." the General mumbled. "I will double the security around the house anyway. Next time, they might be interested in more important things."

The General walked out of the house, quickly followed by the Major. Yuri looked at them as they were disappearing in the night, before looking up at the shining stars. Sarah was homesick, and he couldn't deny that he missed their world as well. He hoped he would see her again one day, maybe even to go home... together.

* * *

Revere entered his workshop to discover a scene that had become familiar to him. His friends were all sitting around a wooden table, talking, eating their breakfast. He took a chair and sat next to Sam.

"What are the news?" Hancock asked him.

"Gage has doubled the security on the scientists' house," Revere answered, "and they all think that you took only things that belonged to your world, only memories if you can put it that way. I've heard nothing about laboratory glassware and chemicals."

"Good," Franklin nodded. "You had a very good idea indeed yesterday, Sarah, when you took these boxes with you."

Sam clenched his jaws, but bit his tongue and remained silent.

"How long will you need now to start to work?" Kelly asked the scientists.

"We still have many things to plan," Michael answered, shaking his head. "We'll need more time."

"It shouldn't take too long though," James added. "A few weeks, at the most."

Warren finally noticed Sam's strange silence.

"Are you okay, Sam?" he asked him.

"Of course," his friend answered.

"You seem... worried."

"Now that we've broken into the scientists' house, the search for you three will be even more intense," Sam answered, looking at the three friends from the future.

"What would you propose to do?" James asked him.

Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, I jut... I simply don't like the idea of you being here, in Boston, when half the City is looking for you."

"Perhaps we should think of a way to make you get out of town," Hancock nodded. "I agree."

"Where would we go?" Sarah replied.

"I don't know, I'm just saying..." Sam answered. "I just think that we should start to think about this option seriously, that's all."

"We'll see," Sarah answered elusively.

After they had finished to eat and talk, when everyone went back to work, Sam asked to talk to Sarah in private for a moment.

"I'm not leaving town," she stated before Sam could say anything. "I'm not leaving Boston until all of you are out of here as well."

"Sarah..."

"No, listen to me," she told him, her voice soft and yet firm. "We can't leave you all behind..."

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about," Sam interrupted her.

She frowned.

"What is it then?"

Sam struggled to swallow.

"About... what happened yesterday..."

"Sam..."

"It was completely out of line, and... I'm sorry to have put you in this position."

"It's okay."

They stared at each other for a moment. She lost herself in his dark eyes.

"It saved us, it was the only thing to do. I don't feel offended in any way and... Don't worry, I still think of you as a gentleman."

She smiled, and he tried to smile as well, though he could feel tears appear in his eyes.

"I'm still sorry," he said, his voice a bit hoarse.

"Don't be. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"There is though."

She narrowed slightly her eyes, but he didn't add anything.

She couldn't know that he wasn't only sorry for what he had done the previous night, but for what he felt right now as well.

"It shouldn't be this way," he breathed.

"What way?" she asked him, her voice warm and soothing.

He raised his hand towards her face, but let it fall on her upper arm instead of reaching her cheek.

"Everything... everything is wrong here."

"It won't always be," Sarah reassured him.

"I'm afraid that to me, it will."

He walked away before she could ask him what he meant, and she remained standing there alone for a long while.


	17. To Philadelphia

**Here comes a new chapter. I hope you like it!**

 **One scene was taken from the series in this chapter.**

 **Next update on Sunday.**

 **Please tell me what you think about this story so far :)**

* * *

 **To Philadelphia**

He had seen her walking before the workshop. Every night, she was walking in this street, heading towards Beacon Hill with a bag full of food. He had seen her three nights in a row. And now he was hiding in the shadows of an alley nearby.

This was pure madness. And he knew it.

But James couldn't help it. She had helped them the other day, and he could see in her eyes that she meant them no harm. He knew it, deep down, in his soul, he knew he was right, even if he had never properly talked to her, even if he didn't even know her name... He knew he had to talk to her, and it was enough for now.

He saw her coming his way. His heart skipped a beat.

"Excuse me, Miss," he called for her softly.

She started, clearly scared. But the night had fallen, he couldn't blame her for being defensive.

"I don't mean you any harm," he tried to reassure her.

"Who are you?" she asked, terrified. "What... What do you want?"

James took care of hiding from the rest of the street behind the wooden wall of the nearest house, and he took off his hat, letting her see his face. She seemed to relax instantly.

"My name is James," he told her softly. "I... I just wanted to thank you... for the other day, I mean. When you helped us."

She walked in the alley with him.

"The pleasure was all mine," she answered, pushing away her golden hair behind her ear. "I... have to say I don't like having all these soldiers here, in Boston."

"Me neither," James smiled.

"You... You're one of the three scientists that the General is looking for, aren't you?"

There was no angst in her voice, merely excitement. She seemed happy to have met one of them, and James didn't think it was a trap.

"I am. James Williamson."

He offered her his open hand, but she hesitated.

"What's your name?" he asked her gently.

"Mary Broadwood," she answered, shaking his hand.

"Mary? That's a lovely name."

She blushed hard, smiling.

"Thank you."

He kept staring at her, with an aghast expression, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry," James chuckled as he finally noticed his strange behaviour. "It's just that you're... you're..."

He struggled to swallow. His heart was beating so fast in his chest...

"I am?" she encouraged him shyly to continue.

"You're..." he tried to pursue. "You're very beautiful."

They both blushed fiercely.

"I don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable..." James tried to apologize.

"It's fine," she reassured him. "It's... very kind of you to say that."

They exchanged a shy smile.

"You're a friend of doctor Warren's, right?" she suddenly asked him.

"Yes, I am. Do you know him?"

She nodded.

"He's my doctor. He helps my father as well, he's very sick. And the doctor is very kind to Mrs. Gage as well."

"She seems to be an honest woman."

"She is very kind, Sir. Not like her husband."

Mary blushed fiercely again.

"I shouldn't be talking like this of the General..."

"Don't worry," James reassured her with a little laugh. "I really hate him. A lot. You can insult him in front of me, that's more than fine by me."

She giggled.

"You're funny."

James blushed again.

"Good. Because I'm always really clumsy when it comes to women."

She laughed.

"You're doing fine so far."

"Perfect!"

"Isn't it dangerous for you to be out here, Sir?" she asked him after a short silence.

"A bit, I'm not going to stay here for long anyway. But please, just... just call me James. It was my father that was called 'Sir', I'm not that old yet."

She laughed again.

"Why did you come here, if it's dangerous for you?" she asked softly.

"The truth?"

She nodded, and he heaved a sigh.

"I..." James stuttered. "I really wanted to see you again, that's all."

Mary blushed fiercely once more, but she was smiling.

"If I want to write to you," she said slowly. "do you think that Dr. Warren could give you my letters?"

James grinned.

"I'm sure he could."

She grinned as well.

"Good night, then. I'll write to you, James."

"Good night, Mary."

She walked down the street, leaving James alone. He walked back to the workshop, coming in as silently as possible.

But Sarah was waiting for him, sitting in the stairs.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she told him.

James heaved a sigh.

"Me too, Sarah... me too."

* * *

She was standing there, in the middle of the street, right before Revere's workshop. It was dark, and the stars were shining on the rooftops, glittering in the heavens above his head.

Sam walked towards her.

"Sarah?"

She turned around, and a grin formed on her lips.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, curious.

His heart started to beat faster.

"I needed to see you," he breathed.

She stared right into his dark eyes, motionless.

She didn't push him away when he took a step closer to her, and held her face in his hands.

"I can't lie to you anymore," he whispered.

She was still perfectly motionless. The stars were glimmering in her eyes, igniting her glance with a thousand droplets of light. He couldn't look away from these blue orbs, he felt like he had lost his soul into them. Slowly, his lips dived towards hers.

And still, she didn't move...

And then she closed her eyes, and when his lips met hers, and he moved gently his mouth against hers, she let him.

Not a second later, he could feel her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, whilst she moved her lips against his.

After a long while, they finally broke away, breathless. Sam rested his brow against hers, and he could feel the smile on her face as his thumbs were tenderly stroking her cheeks. He grinned. He grinned like he hadn't grinned for a long time. Finally, he opened his eyes, and just as his eyelids fluttered, he heard her whispering softly his name.

But then all he could see was the cracked ceiling above his bed.

* * *

"We need to get out of town."

Sam heaved a sigh. Again.

"We'll make you all leave when we find a place safe enough for you to stay," Sam replied.

"It's been weeks now since we broke into the house," Sarah replied. "They will find out sooner or later. Furthermore, we're ready to start to produce nitro-glycerine, or at least try to. James is ready to start the production of gunpowder as well, though I hope we were clear enough on the fact that we would never be able to produce..."

"In important quantities gunpowder and that we needed to find another way to get some, yes, it was clear," Sam cut her off.

"Sam, we need to go now."

"I understand that, Sarah," he replied, raising slightly his voice, but it was enough to make her tense. "But what _you_ don't seem to understand, it's that I don't know where you could go. I. Don't. Know."

"I understand that."

"I can't send you somewhere where you won't be safe."

"But I'm not safe here either, Sam," she argued. "When Yuri finds out..."

"He hasn't found out yet."

"When we know he has, it may already be too late."

"It won't be."

"Sam..."

"We still have time."

She heaved a sigh.

"Time is such a strange notion anyway," she mumbled, talking more to herself than to the man standing before her.

He didn't answer, and she heaved a sigh.

"Look, Sam..."

She made a movement to touch his arm, but he took a step back, looking away from her blue eyes.

He was fleeing. He was fleeing her. Since... _that_ night, the night they had acted like burglars, the night they had hidden in this little alley, the night he had kissed her neck... _That_ night... Since then, he had been avoiding her, he barely spoke to her alone now, he always behaved in such a defensive way... And it was killing her.

She clenched her jaws. They were alone in the workshop. James and Michael were repairing the cart with Kelly and Franklin (and Hancock, but everyone knew the gentleman was not going to be useful anyway), and the others were out. They were alone, no one would hear them, it was perfect.

"Look, Sam, we need to talk," she told him.

"I thought it was what we were doing," he replied rather coldly.

"I mean... we need to talk about the other night."

Sam clenched his jaws.

"We've already talked about that," he answered through gritted.

"Maybe, but clearly there's still a problem between us because of it."

"There's no problem."

"There is one though. You're fleeing."

Sam looked up at her.

"You're avoiding me," Sarah went on. "You've been avoiding me since... _that_ night."

"That's not true..."

"Sam, stop it! Stop acting as if everything was normal, because nothing is normal here!"

She had raised her voice, and it was making his blood boil as well...

It was also making his heart ache.

"Sarah..."

He heaved a sigh, wincing.

"Just be honest with me," she pleaded, and her voice was soft again. "Why are you so upset about what happened?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"How can you not be upset?"

His voice sounded both angry and desperately sad as if...

...as if she was breaking his heart.

"I... I did something that I should have never had done..." he said, infuriated against himself, his voice shaking with withheld tears.

"You saved our lives."

He stared right into her big blue eyes.

"You saved our lives, Sam. And I agreed to do it too, you didn't force me or anything."

He shook his head.

"I shouldn't have done that. It was... out of line, and completely outrageous, and..."

Sarah was struggling to keep an unreadable expression, but inside, she was slowly crumbling.

Because though she knew they would never be together, and that they _should_ never be together, though she had always refused to put a name on whatever she was feeling when he was near her... it was still so painful to hear that he didn't feel the same.

"It's okay, Sam," she reassured him. "I'm not mad at you."

"But I'm mad at myself."

"Why? You shouldn't be."

"It was out of line."

"You merely kissed my neck."

He looked at her as if she was mad.

" _Merely_ kissed your neck?! Are you serious?"

"It was just a few kisses on my neck, Sam. It wasn't a real kiss, and all along you acted in a perfectly gentlemanly manner. So stop being mad at yourself for what happened that night. Please, stop."

"I kissed your neck and you..."

He stopped, and she frowned at him, silently asking him to go on talking.

"You've never been married," he breathed.

He looked down at the ground shamefully again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in a shaking voice.

She took a step towards him, forcing him to look up at her once more. She was smiling.

"Sam, it's okay. Really, it is."

"It's just... it feels even worse knowing that you've never been with..."

He couldn't finish his sentence. But to much of his surprise, she laughed.

"Sam, I can reassure you on that point. "

He propped up an eyebrow.

"Really?"

She laughed again.

"One thing that has changed in two hundred years, it's that men and women are much more... liberated on this particular subject."

"Oh..."

He didn't really like her answer, and he had hated not knowing... he didn't know which one was the worst.

She rested her hand on his arm, and this time, he didn't move away.

"You didn't offend me," she told him earnestly, and he could read in her blue eyes that it was true. "I'm not angry against you. I don't feel ashamed. I don't regret it. I don't feel like you've misbehaved. I still think about you as a perfect gentleman. Okay?"

He nodded slowly.

"So, please, could you stop acting like you hate me?" she asked him, tears shining in her eyes.

She could see he had tears in his dark eyes as well.

"I don't hate you," he answered softly. "I couldn't hate you."

They exchanged a warm smile.

"We should just... try to forget about that night," Sam said slowly.

And she could hear the pain in his voice.

How was she supposed to react to _that_?

"I guess, it would be the wisest thing to do," she answered cautiously.

He nodded, before turning around and hurrying towards the door.

He froze when she called his name.

"What?" he asked, her back to her, trying to hide the shakiness in his voice.

"Are you okay?"

He closed his eyes.

"Of course I am."

And he stormed out of the room.

* * *

"I am not certain about this whole idea."

"It's gonna be fine, John," Sarah reassured Hancock for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"I don't know... You're going to take so many risks..."

"We won't take more risks by leaving town than by staying here. When Yuri learns about what we've done, we'll be in big trouble."

"Sarah is right," Franklin nodded. "They're better out of town anyway."

Hancock ran a hand through his hair. Sarah liked him better without his wig, and she couldn't refrain a smile at the thought.

"Where are we going again anyway?" Hancock asked once more.

" _I've arranged for us to meet in Philadelphia,_ " John Adams answered.

" _Philadelphia? Why?_ " the businessman asked, frowning.

" _It's central. We have men coming from Virginia, Maryland, New York..._ "

" _How many men are you expecting?_ "

" _Dozens, hopefully._ "

"And Philadelphia is also where I've been living for several years now," Franklin added. "Officially, at least. I know the City very well, and I know a few people out there who could be friendly to our cause."

They suddenly froze, and hid behind the corner of a house, as three Red Coats were arresting a man in the adjacent street.

"The change of air will be more than welcomed," Michael breathed, whilst the soldiers disappeared down the street.

They resumed their walk through the deserted street. It had rained the previous day, and the ground was still muddy and wet. Their boots were covered with a thick layer of brown clay.

" _And you think that_ this _is the most appropriate way to use our resources?_ " Hancock asked Adams.

" _We need to send a message to London, one that is heard,_ " the lawyer answered. " _They won't listen to Boston alone, but the voice of thirteen united Colonies, that they cannot ignore._ "

Hancock nodded, though he clearly wasn't convinced. They joined Sam, who was waiting for them to buy horses. It would be a rather long trip to Philadelphia, they had to get organized first. And what they needed the most were steeds.

Sam nodded to the newcomers, leaning against a pillar of wood. He and Sarah exchanged a smile.

" _Is he paying for all this?_ " he asked, walking towards his friends and nodding towards Hancock.

" _Seems that way..._ " the businessman mumbled.

A mischievous smile appeared on Sam's face, before his face would become very serious again. But his dark eyes were still glimmering with amusement.

He turned towards the salesman.

" _We'll take the seven fastest horses,_ " he ordered.

The man nodded, but Hancock grew a bit pale. He hurried towards Sam and the salesman.

" _Gentlemen,_ " Hancock protested," _do we need the fastest horses? Perhaps a more standard, affordable horse..._ "

Sam brilliantly ignored him, and walked towards the saddlebags that were exposed on a table. He nodded slowly, taking an item and turning it in his hands, examining it precisely.

" _These saddlebags too, I think,_ " Sam said slowly, before putting the item down again hastily, and moving to another. " _No, wait!_ "

He picked up the other bag, and examined it thoroughly, just like he had done with the other one. Then he turned towards Hancock again, a serious expression on his face, though his eyes were betraying his amusement.

" _These look more expensive._ "

He struggled to refrain a laugh at the sight of Hancock's desperate expression. He gave the saddlebag to Hancock, so that he could pay.

Sam walked to the saddles, and stopped before the one that undoubtedly looked the more expensive.

Behind him, the three scientists and Franklin were struggling not to laugh before Sam's teasing behaviour, whilst his cousin was merely rolling his eyes.

" _Now, this..._ " Sam said a bit dramatically. " _This looks very, very comfortable, don't you think?_ " he asked Hancock, before turning to the salesman again. " _We'll take this saddle too._ "

Hancock glared at Sam, whilst the man merely leaned on the saddle, a small smile on his face.

"Are you sure we have to take this too?" Hancock asked him.

Sam looked at him with faked outraged.

"You're not expecting a lady to ride a horse for days on an uncomfortable saddle, do you?" he asked Hancock, nodding towards Sarah.

She exploded in laughter.

"John, don't worry," she reassured the merchant. "We don't need this saddle."

"I'm afraid we do though," Hancock mumbled.

She rolled her eyes.

"Gentlemen are ridiculous sometimes," she sighed.

"It would be not at all gentlemanly to make this lady here travel on an uncomfortable saddle, that's all I'm saying," Sam defended himself, clearly amused by now.

"Alright, we're taking the saddle too," Hancock sighed, turning towards Sam. " _Are you done?_ "

Sam hummed in agreement.

" _Sure?_ " Hancock asked again, annoyance oozing from his voice.

Sam hummed once more.

" _Wonderful_ ," Hancock breathed, before turning to the salesman, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and dragging him a bit further away from Sam, just in case the crazy man had another stupid idea. " _My good man, perhaps we could come to some agreement regarding the price..._ "

Sam turned towards his friends, and they all burst into laughter.

"You shouldn't be so harsh with him," Sarah admonished him, growing more serious all of a sudden.

Sam stared at her for a moment.

"I don't see what you seem to appreciate so much in him," he answered slowly.

His voice was neutral, and yet Sarah could distinguish traces of a feeling he was trying to hide... it sounded like bitterness.

"He's a good man," she answered softly.

"He's selfish."

"Not really. He just... wants to make his uncle proud. And you haven't spent so much time together anyway. Who knows... perhaps you'll have a good influence on him. And if we're really lucky, he'll have a good influence on you as well!"

They both chuckled.

"I doubt that he could have a good influence on anyone," Sam replied.

"You would be surprised," she answered with a smile.

Sam nodded slowly, feeling it was time to change the subject.

"You said you could ride," he told Sarah. "Are you sure you don't prefer to take a cart?"

"I can ride," she reassured him.

"We have a very long journey ahead of us," he protested.

"I know, but I can ride.

"As you wish, then."

But Sarah could see that something was troubling him. She took a step closer.

"What is it?" she asked him.

He shook his head, looking at his cousin as John talked to Franklin, Michael and James.

"I don't think it's going to work," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes searching for her very soul.

"Is it?" he asked her, still looking intensely at her. "Is it going to work? Just... to gather everyone?"

She looked up at him, and when she answered, Sam could hear how much she was choosing everyone one of her words very carefully.

"It's not that easy, Sam. But you can't do this on your own."

"We were doing fine so far..."

"We're not doing fine at all," she interrupted him. "It's not enough. We need an army, not a simple militia."

"We can save Boston without the help of the other Colonies. What are they going to do anyway? If we go there, we'll just waste our time."

She shook slowly her head.

"You're wrong, Sam. This time, you can't do this on your own."

She rested her hand on his arm, and Sam struggled to keep a blank expression despite his heart skipping a beat.

"Trust me on this. This is so much more than just helping Boston..."

"That's all that matters to me though."

"That's not true. I know it isn't."

"It is, I just want to help the people of Boston..."

"You can't free Boston, if you don't free all the Colonies as well."

He kept staring at her, but didn't answer this time. And so she went on.

"We're not there yet, but soon, there will be a war. A real war, Sam. And you can't fight the English Empire on your own. That's a reality. For now, we're looking for support to deal with the Crown in diplomatic ways. But soon, we won't be looking for measures."

"You said once, that Michael wasn't British," Sam said slowly.

"And neither are you."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"We need to do this, Sam," Sarah told him, her voice soothing, as she softly stroked his arm. "Trust me."

He nodded slowly, before speaking again.

"In your version of History, did we win? This war you're talking so much about, are we supposed to win it?"

She stared into his dark eyes.

"Yes. And we'll make sure you win it this time as well."


	18. Debates

**Here's a new chapter! Hope you like it!**

 **One scene was taken from the series here.**

 **Theoretically, next update on Sunday, but University is sooooooo hard this year, I barely have any time at all to write these days, so don't be mad at me if I'm late.**

 **I hope you like this new chapter. Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, tell me what you think about it, and leave me a review :)**

* * *

 **Debates**

 _Pennsylvania State House, Philadelphia._

 _September 1774._

"I really do hate horses."

Michael stroked his painful back again, and Sarah merely laughed at him.

"Come on, grandpa!" she smiled.

"Oh, shut up you!" Michael laughed as well. "I'm not kidding!"

"Even Dr. Franklin is not complaining, and he's way older than you are."

"Perhaps he's just used to it by now. Of course, he's always lived in a time where the fastest way of transportation is a bloody animal!"

"What do you use if not horses?" John Adams asked him.

"Other things," James answered elusively.

Michael let himself fall on the couch in Franklin's living room. The elder man snickered, pouring himself a glass of red wine.

"I hate the 18th century," Michael moaned.

"I have to say, that the 21th century has its advantages," Sarah nodded, falling on the seat next to her best friend. "And cars are definitely one of them."

"Cars?" Sam asked, propping up an eyebrow.

"Machines we drive. It's so much more comfortable than horses!"

"We should get some rest," Hancock proposed. "Eat something, and then go to sleep early. We'll need to be fresh and rested tomorrow."

"I think we should just take a minute to realize how lucky we are to have reached Philadelphia without being caught by any Red Coat," James replied.

Franklin let out a laugh.

"Now, my friend, I have to agree!" the elder man nodded. "I know a little inn downtown, very discreet and yet a very good establishment. We'll be safe there, and free to talk as we please."

"It sounds perfect!" Michael agreed, standing up again, though he held his back.

It was Sarah's turn to moan.

"Do we really have to move?" she asked. "I feel like I've discovered new parts of my body, and not in a pleasant way at all..."

Michael and James burst into laughter.

"It can't be worse than the time we trained you," Michael laughed madly.

Sarah chuckled as well.

"You are monsters!" she laughed.

"What happened?" Franklin asked them, already taking his hat and getting prepared to go out of the house.

"She wanted to come with us, and we trained together, you know, for sport," Michael answered, tears shining in his eyes. "We were preparing, James and I, to do a competition, and she wanted to encourage us, but she couldn't follow!"

"But she's so stubborn, she didn't want to admit she couldn't do it, so she ran with us... " James added, unable to continue as he was choking with laughter.

"I limped for three days," Sarah laughed, standing up as well. "You're right, it's not as terrible."

"'Told you," Michael said, calming down.

"Are you certain it'll be safe though?" Sam asked Franklin very seriously.

But the elder man nodded reassuringly.

"I know very well the owners, and many of those who go there on a daily basis. They're on our side. We'll be safe there."

Sam nodded slowly.

"We'll be able to talk freely then, you're sure?" Sarah asked Franklin.

The gentleman nodded again.

"Why? You wanted to talk to us about something?" Franklin asked her.

"Indeed," she nodded. "But we'll talk about that when we eat. I'm starving."

* * *

Sarah planted absentmindedly her fork into her piece of pie. During the entire meal, she had been particularly silent, and Sam was starting to be very worried about her.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her softly.

She looked up at him.

"Sure," she merely answered.

"What is troubling you so much?"

She heaved a sigh, but bit her tongue.

"I guess we should talk about this mysterious topic you've mentioned earlier," Franklin told her, drinking a gulp of red wine.

Sarah nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before diving.

"We have a new decision to take," Sarah said slowly. "And as we've decided to help you, I reckon we should all take this decision together, and not only Michael, James and me."

"What is it?" Hancock encouraged her to pursue when she fell silent.

She leaned further before the table, turning her glass of wine between her fingers. When she spoke again, her voice was slow and she took great care at choosing her words carefully.

"Michael, James and I know what is going to happen," Sarah said. "Not everything, mind you, but we know about the main events, the events that _have_ to happen if we want the future to remain unchanged. But we are not the only ones."

A silence fell on the table. The sound of the three men sitting at the table next to theirs was very loud all of a sudden. The waitress walked across the room and poured them more wine, and none of them spoke before the girl was back to the bar.

"What does that mean?" Hancock softly, his breathing suddenly loud.

"It means Gage also knows what is going to happen," Sam said slowly. "And he will do anything to make sure that these particular events will never happen."

"It also means that it will endanger all of us," John Adams added, his throat tightened all of a sudden.

Sam patted his cousin's shoulder. He knew perfectly well what he was thinking about. He had a wife, he had children, he had a family to take care of, to protect. He had what Sam had almost touched one day, many years before, and Sam understood his reaction to Sarah's reflection.

"Maybe we shouldn't act this way then," Sam proposed slowly.

"We must," Michael stated, and his voice was so firm, it was clear he would not accept any form of protest. "We don't have a choice. History must happen..."

"Perhaps it can happen in a different way," John Adams proposed. "Changing a few things may not endanger the entire structure of History as you know it..."

"It will though," James answered, looking at Sarah. "I know why you're concerned, but it's a risk we have to take."

"Do you think Gage could send some of his men here? In Philadelphia?" Hancock asked nervously.

"Philadelphia is not Boston," Franklin replied. "Gage has no power here. Unless he learns that our three friends here are in this City, he cannot act against us."

"He can't send his men here, not when nothing has happened in Philadelphia," Sam added. "Philadelphia is not occupied by the entire British Army."

"We have to consider two different parameters," Sarah said slowly. "We cannot change History. The main facts must remain untouched if we want to keep a coherent timeline. But we cannot ignore the fact that Yuri and the others will probably tell Gage about some key actions you all have taken in _our_ History. Which means that we are taking the risk of you all being killed."

"And that can't happen," James sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"No, it can't," Sarah nodded, lost in thoughts.

"So, what do you propose?" Sam asked them.

Michael cleared his throat.

"We can't take the risk to change the main events of this time, it's too risky. Some things must happen, the things that alit this whole insurrection in the first place, the things that brought an entire community to stand together. If these events do not occur, then the future will be changed, because what you've started here will stop."

"When you're talking about 'events that must happen'..." Hancock asked slowly. "Which events are you talking about? I mean, in the past, have some occurred already?"

"The Boston Tea Party," Sarah answered, nodding. "The coming of Gage. The evictions..."

"The massacre in King Street, Christopher's death..." Sam completed her list, his tone bitter.

She looked up at him.

"We've never said that what was meant to happen always ended in a good way."

"We can't let some people die if we have a chance to save their lives," John Adams protested.

"I agree," Sam nodded, closely followed by Franklin and Hancock.

"It wasn't the question raised here," Sarah pointed out. "The question was: do we take the risk of you all being killed by maintaining the timeline coherent."

"But by 'you all' you only mean the three of us, right? Not the rest of Boston," Sam replied through gritted teeth, his dark eyes burning with wrath.

Sarah held his stare anyway.

"And a few others," she answered. "But yes, that's the main idea."

"You can't do nothing if you know you could save lives..." Hancock told her.

"It's more complicated than this," Sarah replied. "It's more complicated than just saving a few lives today, it's about taking the risk to sacrifice billions tomorrow."

She shook her head.

"We can't take the risk to change History. Because no matter if it was for good or evil, your actions here, today, will determine the shape of the world _we_ know. And though it is far from perfect, it could have been much worse."

"Why are you asking us our point of view then?" Franklin asked her, shrugging. "Clearly, you have already come to a decision."

"It's your lives, we can't decide for you," Sarah answered. "And we also need you to be aware of the danger Yuri brings upon you. You all need to be particularly careful."

"What if we choose not to follow your orders?" Sam asked.

"We've never given you orders," Sarah replied.

"What if we don't want to do what we are apparently meant to achieve?" Sam asked again.

Michael shrugged.

"Theoretically, the course of events should lead you to take exactly the decisions you are supposed to take if we don't intervene."

"But there are a few things that we may change," Sarah said, her voice full of hope, staring at her two colleagues.

But Michael shook his head.

"Sarah, we can't..."

"Michael..."

"No. I'm sorry but we can't. Things must remain unchanged."

"For the main events, yes, I agree, but it doesn't mean that we can't save anyone."

"We could at least make sure that there are less victims," James nodded.

"I know what you want to change," Michael told Sarah. "And I won't let you do it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not supposed to happen this way."

Sarah bit her tongue, and remained silent.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked them, narrowing suspiciously his eyes.

"Nothing," Michael answered firmly.

The two men stared into each other's eyes for a moment, motionless.

Then all of a sudden, Sarah stood up, and left the room.

Sam immediately ran after her, despite Michael's protest. But he really didn't care about Michael at this precise moment. He had seen tears in her eyes and upon her cheeks. And he couldn't bear the thought of her crying.

He easily found her outside the inn, crying, leaning against the wooden wall. He slowly walked closer to her. She was sobbing hard, her face buried in her hands. He didn't know what to do to make her feel better, to calm her done. He wished he knew how to react, but he felt hopelessly useless, standing before her shaking silhouette wrapped in shadows.

"I'm sorry, I was a bit harsh with you," he said softly.

But she kept on crying.

"Sarah? What's wrong?" he asked her.

His low voice, warm and reassuring, was barely louder than a whisper.

"Talk to me," he insisted.

He took another step towards her, and rested his strong palm upon her shaking shoulder.

"Sarah, please. Tell me what's wrong," Sam asked again.

He stroked gently her shoulder, sending shivers up her spine. She immediately felt calmer, despite the crazy flip-flops of her stomach.

She looked up at him, her blue gaze drenched with tears meeting the darkness of his magnetic eyes, and before he could react, she had wrapped her arms around his neck, and was crying against his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He hoped she couldn't hear his heart racing furiously inside his chest. It was hard for him to breathe...

"It's alright," he said softly, soothingly, stroking her back.

"I wish I could change more things," she breathed between two sobs. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's not your fault. I'm sorry if I was harsh with you, I know you don't have a choice, I know it's much more complicated than what it seems to be for us. But it's also very frustrating for me to know that... you know what is going to happen. And you won't tell us. And we could help more people, and we could save so many innocents... but you won't say anything. And I understand that it's probably for the best, but it's still killing me."

She had stopped crying, and was now merely resting her head against his chest, calming down, listening to his breathing and letting the rhythm of his respiration soothe her. She closed her eyes.

"I'm not angry against you, okay?" Sam went on. "I know sometimes it sounds like I am, but I'm not angry. It's against the German that I'm angry, do you understand?"

She opened her eyes, her face still buried in his shirt.

"We should have never had come here," she breathed, and Sam almost didn't hear her.

But actually, he did hear her words, and he tightened his hold on her slightly, squeezing her against him.

"Don't say that," he whispered against her hair, and his warm breath made her shudder. "We would have never had met if you hadn't come here. And I'm proud to count you as a friend."

She smiled, despite the tears that were wetting her cheeks again.

"I'm proud to have you as a friend as well, Sam," she breathed.

"We'll find a way, don't worry. We will do what must be done. We are all ready to do what is necessary," he added.

She nodded, and they remained like this for a while, merely holding on each other as if their lives depended on this tight embrace.

Once she was calm again, they finally let go, and soon after, their friends joined them outside the inn, and they all headed back to Franklin's house.

Michael forced her to slow down though, making sure that no one could hear them.

"I'm sorry Sarah," he told her, and she could hear the pain that was shaking his voice, "but we can't save him."

"He's our friend, Michael. He has done so much for us..." she protested.

"He's supposed to die, and it can't be changed. It _must_ happen this way."

"I can't let him die. Not him, not our friend..."

Michael stopped, and stared right into her eyes. The moon was bright, and was igniting the streets enough for the two of them to see each other clearly. Michael's face was sad, but determined.

"We must let him die as he is supposed to die, Sarah," Michael stated.

"Michael..."

"No."

He shook his head, and Sarah knew there was no words she could say to make him change his mind. When he spoke again, his voice was too firm to leave her any hope.

"Joseph Warren must die."

* * *

Michael was shaking. He was about to enter the Pennsylvania State House. It was such an important moment in the history of his country. Sure, it would not turn out very well, and sure, it wasn't as if he was about to witness the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but still... Still it was a key moment. It was one of these events that had shaped the face of the world as he knew it, and he couldn't believe he was there to see it. Sarah gave him an understanding smile. He could see how exited she was as well, though she was better at hiding her feelings than he was. They stopped right before the door, and John Adams turned towards them all.

" _Philadelphia is not Boston,_ " he reminded his friends, though his stare was set upon his cousin, " _there aren't soldiers posted at every corner down here, so... We may have to temper our rhetoric._ "

They all nodded (even Sam, though he clearly was getting annoyed by the whole thing already), and John opened the door. But the four Colonists froze before the scene that had appeared before them.

There were barely anyone in the room, the large hall was almost empty.

" _Is this it?_ " Sam asked John in a whisper, looking at the few men that were talking in the large hall.

" _I wrote letters to dozens more,_ " his cousin answered, shrugging, clearly disappointed as well.

" _Well, it doesn't have the makings of much of a resistance,_ " Hancock said, shaking slowly his head.

"You can't expect that everyone in the Colonies will spontaneously answer your call, when your rebellion is barely at its beginning," Sarah replied.

"Is it normal?" Sam asked her.

She nodded, and entered the hall, and soon all the others followed her lead. She couldn't fail to notice the surprised, and sometimes disapproving looks the delegates sent her, though she couldn't say she was particularly surprised by their reaction at seeing in a woman walk into the room. Furthermore a woman wearing trousers and a shirt.

Sam took a deep breath, before stepping into the room, his jaws clenched.

He had such a bad feeling about this...

John Adams couldn't take it anymore. Everything was going wrong. They needed these men, these same men who were bickering and chatting right now, these men who seemed to miss the point of this meeting, and were merely wasting their time when time was the one thing the people of Boston didn't have anymore. He took a deep breath, and stood up.

" _The British oppression in Boston is constant and unending,_ " he struggled to say over the noise of conversations that buzzed around the room _. "We must all of us here, unite and together end this tyranny._ "

But the man representing Philadelphia let out an annoyed sigh, and raised his voice loudly over the noisy room.

" _Enough of this!_ "

He turned around on his chair, looking at the seven friends from Boston with angry eyes.

" _This is ridiculous!_ " he went on, outraged. " _This is_ your _fault!_ "

He stood up. Now in the room, all had fallen silent, listening at his loud voice full of the confidence John had missed in his short speech. He looked around him, and waited for everyone in the room to be listening closely to his words.

" _Boston has brought this outrage upon itself!_ " he pursued, his voice still angry.

" _Mr. Dickinson,_ " John Adams protested, " _this is about Justice. It is about the Law and Order._ "

" _Tell me, what is lawful about tearing down the Royal Governor's house?"_ Dickinson fought back. " _Where is the Justice..._ "

Suddenly, the door opened, and a man in uniform walked into the room. Michael, James and Sarah simultaneously grabbed each other's arms...

George Washington sat down next to his colleague from Virginia. In the hall, a deadly silent was hovering above the men sitting motionless there.

Dickinson cleared his throat, turning once more towards John Adams.

" _Where is the Justice in destroying his Majesty's tea?_ "

" _General Thomas Gage..._ " John tried to argue, before being interrupted by Dickinson again.

" _John..._ "

" _General Thomas Gage..._ "

" _Gage is simply attempting to restore order._ "

Sarah couldn't fail to notice Sam's clenched fists. His scared jaw was tightly set.

" _I assure you,_ " John went on, his voice shaking by now, " _General Gage..._ "

" _General Gage is a cancer._ "

All in the hall turned towards George Washington. Silence settled there for a while, Washington letting his words sink in.

" _I fought alongside him in the war with the French,_ " the gentleman went on, everyone listening closely to his words, his charismatic voice echoing through the silent hall. " _And like a cancer, he brings with him only suffering and death._ _What he lacks in compassion, he makes up for with brutality. Actions_ must _be taken._ "

There was another moment of silence, before Dickinson would let out a wry little chuckle, and resumed his speech, still trying to convince the men before him not to act. But he had lost the attention of a part of his audience, that was still staring at Washington.

" _Who's that?_ " Sam asked in a whisper.

" _George Washington,_ " Hancock answered, whispering as well.

" _He's intense,_ " Sam breathed, nodding his head in approbation.

He finally noticed the scientists' strange behaviour.

"What's wrong?" he asked them.

Michael couldn't control the nervous snicker that left his lips.

"I have to say that seeing George Washington in real is something!" he breathed.

Sarah nodded enthusiastically, staring at the soldier.

"I can't believe this is really happening!" she told Michael with a grin that he quickly gave her back.

"Is he famous in the future?" Franklin asked them. "Is he important to our cause."

"Very important, indeed," James nodded.

Dickinson was still going on with his monologue and all the delegates seemed to agree. Except for George Washington, who's voice echoed in the hall of stone and wood once again.

" _You are wrong, Sir._ "

Dickinson turned his attention towards him, but Washington didn't flinch, and merely repeated his statement.

" _You are wrong. Virginia stands with Massachusetts._ "

The seven friends nodded and smiled to him. John patted Sam's leg.

But Dickinson had not finished, and he turned towards John again.

" _Mr. Adams, I know you're asking for arms and supports. But we can't give you that. Perhaps, instead, we can intend to reason with the Crown. We could send a letter, a list of Grievances for the King to address._ "

The Bostonians sighed, all of them annoyed.

" _I don't know..._ " John tried to argue.

But Dickinson interrupted him... again.

" _Fine then. We will send a letter to the King requesting to put an end to some of General Gage's more... severe tactics._ "

The men started to stand up. Sam turned towards Sarah, his jaw set, his knuckles white as he clenched tightly his fists.

"You _must_ do something!" he told her in a whisper.

"We can't, Sam," she answered, shaking her head.

"You must!"

"Sam, they can't know we're here."

"Sarah is right, Mr. Adams," Franklin told him in a whisper. "It would be very dangerous for all of us if their identities were discovered."

"But you can't let this happen!" Sam protested.

"Sam, it's supposed to happen this way. It's not going to be easy, no one ever said it would be," Sarah replied.

Sam stood up, furious. He turned towards his cousin.

" _John, this is hopeless,_ " he told him through gritted teeth. " _These men are cowards, they are..._ "

" _We need these men,_ " John replied, putting a hand on Sam's upper arm to calm him down. " _We have to find another way of convincing them._ "

" _We came all this way to write a damn letter? The King will as soon wipe his arse with it!_ " Sam added angrily, hitting hard the table with his fist.

" _Enough!_ " John stopped him. " _We have to be rational about this_."

"John is right," Sarah told Sam, her voice soothing. "We need these men. They have a lot of influence upon their communities, we won't be able to achieve anything on our own. We need allies, Sam."

Hancock nudged Sam, forcing him to turn around, and he found himself face to face with George Washington.

"Gentlemen, my Lady," Washington saluted them gracefully, bending his head. "I have to say I'm quite surprised to find a Lady among us here, Gentlemen."

"One has to put some sense in their heads," Sarah answered with a smile.

Washington narrowed slightly his eyes.

"I can hear an accent in your voice, though it is very discreet..."

"I'm French," Sarah smiled. "But I've been living in Boston long enough to smoothen it up."

Washington nodded.

"There is one matter I'd like to talk to you about, but I did not wish all these politicians to hear," Washington told them.

"And what could that be?" Sam asked him.

Washington looked intensely at him in the eyes.

"I've heard Gage had the support of three men from the future," he whispered. "I've heard he didn't let them go back to their own time, and now they're working for him."

"I'm afraid it's true," John nodded, his tone bitter.

"Then we have an important disadvantage here. It will be a problem."

"We don't have much of a disadvantage, Mr. Washington," Sam reassured him.

Washington propped up an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"There were six scientists coming from the future."

"You're forgetting three people here, General," Michael told him with a small smile.

"I am no General, Sir," Washington corrected him.

"No, but that should come soon enough," Sarah answered.

The soldier stared at her deep blue eyes, before slowly nodding.

"I see now, why we have a Lady in these halls..." he breathed.

"I reckon that three against three is a rather fair fight," James smiled.

"Indeed," Washington nodded.

"No one must know about them, though," Hancock warned him.

But Washington smiled reassuringly.

" _Make no mistake,_ " Washington told them after a brief silence. " _War is coming. We all know that. But Boston is on its own for now._ "

" _And what would you have us do?_ " Sam asked him back.

The two men stared into each other's eyes for a moment, their intense glances piercing the other's soul. And Washington had only one word to add, one advice to share to this man he already respected with a single glance.

" _Resist._ "


	19. Past And Future

**Here comes a new chapter! I thought it was time to learn a bit more about what happened between Sarah and Yuri for her to hate him so much. Also, I wanted to include a scene between Sam and Sarah. I hope you like this chapter!**

 **One scene was taken from the series here.**

 **I hope I'll be able to update on Sunday, but I can't promise you anything, classes are very tough this year...**

 **Please, please, please, please tell me what you think about this chapter. Don't forget to review.**

* * *

 **Past And Future**

 _Concord, Massachusetts, 17 miles West of Boston._

 _September 1774._

They couldn't go back to Boston. All were aware of this fact. Before leaving Philadelphia, they needed to find a place where the scientists would be safe. And Revere seemed to have found the perfect place. Not too far from the City, so still accessible quickly, and yet far enough for the Red Coats to be kept at bay. It was perfect, and the farmer who was joining the fight, allowing them and their men to stay at his farm was happy to welcome the scientists in his home. Michael thought that Sarah's natural charms were not completely stranger to the man's hospitality towards them, though he didn't complain.

" _Revere says you're a man who can be trusted,_ " Sam said, as they were walking towards James Barrett's barn.

The sun was already high in the sky, the dew wetting delicately the grass under their feet. The light was glimmering upon the wet leaves. It was a lovely morning indeed, though all in the little group that was walking through the field had more important things in their minds.

Barrett nodded.

" _I know Paul from way back. He's a good friend,"_ he answered.

Sam nodded, apparently convinced, before turning towards Revere again.

" _If we're gonna take back Boston, we're gonna need a lot of men Paul,_ " he told his friend.

" _And a lot of weapons..._ " Revere nodded in agreement.

" _You find men to shoot them,_ " Sam instructed him. " _We'll get you the guns._ "

"We should also think about a way to create a little laboratory," Sarah told the men around her. "If you want our help, we need a place to work."

"The barn is free for you to use," Barrett answered.

"I don't know if it's a very wise decision to perform experimentations with gunpowder all around us," Michael pointed out.

"We're going to need lots of space though, I guess it could work," Sarah replied, lost in thoughts.

"You tell us what you need, and we'll get it for you," Sam told her.

They arrived at the barn, and Paul opened the doors wide.

" _Gentlemen, I present you our first recruits!_ "

They all looked at the men in the barn, all were rather poorly clothed, and didn't look much like soldiers. A few known faces were lost in the little group though. Hancock shook his head, sighing, a desperate expression painted all over his face.

" _Oh, good God..._ " he breathed, lost in despair.

Sarah patted his shoulder reassuringly, whilst he still struggled to breathe. Sam took a deep breath.

" _Let's get to work!_ "

He walked to the men in the barn, and started to shake hands with all of them. The three scientists exchanged a glance, before joining the men in the barn as well.

Indeed, it was time to get to work, for all of them...

* * *

"I can't believe it!"

Yuri threw another book against the wall.

"The fucking traitors!" he roared through the house. "The traitors!"

"Yuri, calm down," Yoko desperately admonished him.

If the Red Coats heard them, they were doomed.

"They betrayed us!" Yuri snapped back. "How could I calm down?"

"How did they do it?" Pablo asked his colleagues. "I mean, surely they took everything when they broke into the house to take back their memories, but how did they manage to transport all this equipment, and where did they hide it?"

Yuri glowered at the window.

"Revere's workshop, for sure," he answered.

"What do we do now?" Yoko asked his boss.

"We don't really have a choice. We must talk to Gage."

* * *

His men had warned him. The Red Coats were coming for him. He wasn't afraid though. There was nothing they could find there. He thought that it was a lucky coincidence that the British Army decided to come knocking at his door right when there was nothing reprehensible left to be found in his workshop. He was lucky, very lucky. Just a few days earlier, and they would have discovered all the scientists' belongings. But now there was nothing left, everything had been sent to Concord already. No, Revere wasn't worried about the soldiers who were walking his way throughout Boston. And he didn't flinch when Major Pitcairn opened the door of his workshop, walking naturally in, though he hadn't been invited to enter.

"Mr. Revere," Pitcairn called for him, and Paul washed his hands clean from the dirt left there by his work, before turning towards the military man who was walking his way.

"What can I do for you, today?" asked Paul with a fake smile.

"We're here to search your workshop. We would be grateful if you could cooperate."

"I have nothing to hide," Revere answered with a shrug.

"We'll see."

Behind the soldiers, Revere caught sight of Yuri. He had come alone at the workshop, his colleagues were still at the house. He wanted to be there. He wanted to be there when they would arrest Sarah. She had betrayed them all, she had taken a step she would not be able to take back now. She had chosen a side, and it wasn't his. He could feel a sharp pain in his chest. He remembered the look in her eyes when she had asked him a place in his expedition. She had blackmailed him to come here, he should have known that she wasn't trustful anymore. Perhaps it was partly his fault, if she had such a bad image of him. He was the one who had betrayed her in the first place, he knew it, but she hadn't left him a choice by then... He knew she was still bitter for what she was taking for an unforgivable betrayal, but he had merely acted for the best. One day, she would see it. Just like one day, she would understand that fighting Gage was hopeless. He had an army, when these Colonists had... what? Nothing. He clenched his fists, and his teeth gritted in pain and frustration. He wanted to be there when the Red Coats would take her away, just to see the look in her eyes when she would understand that he had been right all along. And then, maybe she would look at him in a different way, not thinking of him as a low creature crawling in darkness and fear, but as a man who had been right all along. Perhaps she could see him as a friend again. At least a friend...

But after a few minutes of intense search, the soldiers walked out of the workshop, empty-handed.

"It was a pleasure to see you again, Major," Revere called after Pitcairn as he was finally exiting the workshop.

Pitcairn strode towards Yuri, fuming.

"There was nothing inside, Dr. Einbrecher," Pitcairn informed him in a frozen tone.

"I don't understand..." Yuri stuttered.

"I do not like when others make me waste my time."

"I was sure they were there. It's the only place they could have gone with..."

"That's enough!"

Pitcairn took a step closer to Yuri, their faces merely inches apart.

"It is the last time you make me waste my time, Dr. Einbrecher."

Pitcairn walked away, closely followed by his troops. Yuri looked up at Revere, who had been looking at the scene from the threshold of his workshop. He glared at the scientist, a warning glint alit in his eyes.

Yuri walked away, and took as a resolution never to walk alone the streets of Boston again...

* * *

Joseph dismounted and walked towards the barn with a hurry in his movements that was unnatural to him. When Sam saw his friend almost running towards him, he knew something terrible had happened. He immediately stood up, and soon all the people gathered at the first floor of the barn were looking at the doctor.

"What happened?" Sam asked him, his voice urging.

"Is somebody hurt?" Franklin asked Warren, noticing at once the doctor's strange behaviour as well.

But Joseph shook his head.

"Everybody's fine, but I am bringing ill news," he answered, looking at the three scientists. "The German has found out about the glassware and the chemical compounds that we stole. Gage has doubled the sentries throughout Boston. You three, or anyone seen helping you, are to be shot on sight."

There was a heavy silence in the room. Warren took a seat around the wooden table, joining his friends, though Sam was remaining motionless, standing still next to the table, his blank stare fixed upon the void before him, as he slowly let the information sink in.

This was bad...

"We're lucky we've left town in time," James finally sighed.

"You must be very careful," Hancock urged them.

"We won't leave this place anyway, we'll be just fine, John," Sarah reassured him. "We all knew this was going to happen."

Sam finally sat down again.

"Anything else?" he asked Warren in a hoarse voice.

"Pitcairn and his men searched Paul's workshop today," Warren informed the group of rebels. "There was nothing to be found luckily. But though Paul acts as if it was nothing, he's quite shaken by the whole thing. They destroyed everything inside, it will take weeks to set everything as it was before. And I know he's also shaken because it was close this time. He could have been arrested, and then..."

Joseph didn't have to finish his sentence for all who were gathered in the dark room to shiver. Paul was loyal to a fault, he would have never given Gage information, which meant that he wouldn't have been useful to the General. And they all knew only too well what happened to Gage's enemies who were of no use to him.

"We were lucky," Sam said. "Next time, we must be more careful."

"I'll double the number of our men around the farm," Kelly said, standing up. "We can't take any risk."

Sam nodded, and he let the Irishman walk out of the room.

"I've been thinking lately..." Franklin slowly said. "I should go back to Philadelphia."

James and Michael frowned.

"Why?" Sam asked him.

"I am clearly not a fighter," Franklin told them with a little chuckle. "But I can help with politics, and strategy. My place is not here, training soldiers and building weapons. But I can try to help John Adams with his project of uniting the Colonies."

Sarah nodded, a sad smile on her face.

"We'll miss you," she told him.

"We'll write to each other very often, I'm counting on it," Franklin replied, a sad smile on his face as well.

"Speaking of letters," Warren said, his hand sinking under his coat.

He took a sealed envelope out of his pocket.

"Mary Broadwood gave me this for you," Warren told James, handing him the letter.

James hurried to take it from him, but didn't open it, merely putting it safely into his own pocket. Sam, Revere and Kelly exchanged a suspicious glance.

"Who is Mary Broadwood?" Sam asked slowly.

"Margaret Gage's housemaid," Warren answered, looking suspiciously at James as well.

"I beg your pardon?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Why is she writing to you anyway?" Revere asked, his tone quite aggressive.

"Don't start panicking, she's on our side," James reassured his friends.

"Says who?" Sam asked back.

"I say it."

James and Sam stared at each other in the eyes for a moment.

"It's not a good idea," Revere told James. "I can understand you're feeling lonely here, but..."

"It has nothing to do with that, thank you," James snapped. "She's on her side, and she could be useful."

"And she happens to be very pretty," Michael mumbled wryly.

"Fuck you, Michael! Don't start!"

"You're acting like an idiot right now. You're endangering us all..."

"James knows what he's doing," Sarah interrupted her friends. "Stop it, right now, Michael."

The American bit his tongue, but didn't reply, merely leaning back in his chair.

"It's not a good idea," Sam replied. "Michael is right."

"Ha! You see?!" Michael told Sarah, pointing at Sam with a nod.

"I know what I'm doing," James replied.

"It's not our world," Michael told him.

"It _is_ our world now, Michael," Sarah replied.

They stared at each other in silence for a while, before Sarah would speak again, her voice softer than before.

"We're not going back, Michael. You have to realize that. We're not going home. _This_ is home now, and if James wants to build himself a life here, he has the right to at least try to."

There was a heavy silence, that settled there for a while, and no one in the room moved for a long while.

Sarah finally heaved a sigh.

"I'm knackered," she said, standing up, before turning towards Sam. "We'll start our work tomorrow morning, this room is perfect for us."

And she walked out of the barn, closely followed by her two best friends.

* * *

Sam didn't exit the barn before another hour. He, Revere, Warren, Kelly and Franklin had talked for a long time after the scientists had left the room. He was worried, to say the least. He didn't like this idea of James becoming close to a girl working for Gage, nor did he like the idea of Franklin staying alone in Philadelphia, or the hopelessness that had settled in Sarah's heart about her journey home... He wished there was something he could have done, but he couldn't imagine any way to help her. One thing was for sure, he would not find sleep tonight, his mind was unsettled, thoughts twirling and circling in his mind in a mad chaos that would keep him awake all night long. He thus decided to take a walk around the farm. The moon, almost full, was shedding enough light for him to walk easily through the night.

As he was walking around the barn, he found Sarah, sitting under an oak tree. A box was open on her laps, and she seemed to look dreamily at what it contained. Sam walked slowly towards her, and she started as she was hearing him coming her way.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Sam apologized.

"It's okay. I simply didn't think I would have a visitor at such an hour."

"You should be sleeping," Sam admonished, the ghost of a smile curving up his lips.

"I don't think I'll be able to find any rest tonight," she answered, a sad expression drowning her blue glaze.

Sam sat down next to her.

"Would you mind some company?" he asked her.

"On the contrary, I would love some," she answered with a smile.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, looking more closely at the box.

She handed him pictures of her.

"Memories," she told him softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "These are called photographs," she indicated him.

"I guess it's useless that I ask about what it is exactly," Sam smiled.

"It's an image we can take of a moment."

She pointed at a photograph of her and her two best friends at a baseball game.

"Michael and James forced me to drink a dozen beer that day. They challenged me. I was sick for two days!"

She laughed at the memory. Sam looked at another photograph, much older. A man, a woman and a little girl with black hair and electric blue eyes stared back at him, all of them smiling.

"Who are they?" he asked her.

"My uncle and my aunt. They raised me like their own daughter," she answered.

"Are they still alive?" he asked her.

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have asked."

"It's okay," she reassured him.

He took another picture of her with a young man.

"What about him?" he asked her.

"I almost married him," she answered softly.

Sam immediately regretted his question, and clenched his jaw, trying to control the pain that pierced his chest.

"What happened?" he asked her, curiosity stronger than his sense of wisdom.

"We were very young," she said slowly. "I had an offer to work in one of the best laboratories in the world, but it was in Europe, and he lived in New York. He asked me to choose between him and my work. And I chose."

"I see. I'm sorry."

"It was my choice. I don't regret it. I love my work, I was meant to be a scientist, I've never doubted that. If he really loved me as much as he said he did, he wouldn't have asked me to choose."

"Why do you keep a picture of him then?"

Sarah shrugged.

"It's good to remember what we've sacrificed to be where we are."

Sam picked up a new picture, upon which Michael, James, Sarah and Yuri were smiling, drinking beers. Sam's jaws suddenly clenched.

"You seem to have been very friendly with the German," Sam pointed out, in a tone he hoped to be neutral.

"He wasn't always so selfish," Sarah answered slowly. "We were friends ones."

She looked at the picture, resting her head upon Sam's shoulder. He couldn't control the butterflies in his stomach, and took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions.

"What happened then?" he asked her.

She glared at the photograph.

"He betrayed me," she answered, her voice bitter.

"What happened?" Sam asked again.

She heaved a sigh.

"It's... it's not important... not to you."

"It seems important to you. So it's also important to me."

Sarah looked up at him, a small smile on her lips.

"You're very kind, you know?" she told him softly.

Sam shrugged.

"I try to be."

They exchanged an earnest smile.

"What happened?" Sam asked one more time.

She looked down at the picture again.

"It was a long time ago," she told him slowly, her voice soft and weak, as if it required from her an incredibly great effort to form the words on her tongue and to let them pass her lips. "We were working together, the four of us. We were studying particles, and to be more precise we used to analyse the particles created by the collision of two photons..."

She stopped, knowing he would not understand, and she didn't want him to feel lost.

"Anyway," she said, resuming her speech. "We worked together. We were a good team. Yuri and I were good friends. But one day... everything went wrong."

She stopped for a moment, holding on Sam's arms with both her hands. She finally took a deep breath, and dived into her past again.

"There was an incident. We formed an anomaly and... we created a bridge. Just like the one we used to come here. But..."

She cleared her throat.

"It was too brief for any of us to understand what it was, it wasn't supposed to happen, we had never witnessed anything of the kind. We spent months analysing everything, trying to understand what had happened. And one night, I found out what had happened."

"You're the one who understood that it was a bridge to my time?"

She nodded slowly.

"What did you do then?" Sam asked her. "You told the others?"

She shook her head.

"I destroyed everything," she breathed.

Sam frowned hard.

"Why?" he asked, aghast.

"Because it was too dangerous," Sarah answered, her voice soft. "It was too dangerous to travel through time. I was so scared someone would use this bridge with evil intentions. It was too risky, too powerful a thing to give to any man. So I destroyed all the data, trying to make sure that no one would ever find out what I had discovered. Can you imagine? If it had fallen into the wrong hands, it could have destroyed countries, societies... If it can one day be controlled, we could use the bridge to go back to a precise period and change anything we want in history."

"Isn't it a good thing?" Sam asked her. "You could use it to stop wars..."

"Or a psychopath could use it to change the ending of a war, and trust me, there have been a few tyrants who have lost their wars between now and my time, and we can't take the risk that men like them can win."

She shook her head, her forehead brushing against his shoulder.

"We don't know what is going to be the impact of our actions on the future. My world is far from perfect, but it could have been much worse. We can't take the risk. At least, I thought we couldn't."

"But if you destroyed everything, how can Yuri have found out about the bridge?"

Sarah shook her head again.

"He was in the building when I discovered what the anomaly was. He caught me when I was about to destroy everything. I told him what I had found out, I showed him my calculations, everything... He seemed to understand. He told me I was right to destroy everything, he offered to help me. But in fact, he made a copy of everything... And then..."

Her voice broke, but she cleared her throat, too far gone in her confession to stop now.

"He published everything, with _his_ name on it. He told the entire world that he had discovered a way to travel through time, he stole all my work, what I had spent weeks, months even to study... He just stole everything, and claimed it for himself. The jerk even won a Nobel Prize for _my_ work! That's the highest reward you can receive if you're a scientist. That's the highest honour... and he won one because he stole my work and betrayed me like the selfish thief he really is."

She struggled to calm down, her throat tightened with sorrow and tears. She sniffed, weeping her tears away from her cheeks.

"And then, of course, everyone wanted an expedition. And nobody listened to me when I said that it was a bad idea. It's easier to believe that your dreams can be realized, and are not merely fantasies we pursue in the dark. So when Yuri started to build up a team to go back in team, I blackmailed him to go as well. It was my silence against a place in his expedition. He was too scared to understand I was bluffing. I didn't have any proof of his guilt left anyway, I had destroyed everything long before. But he believed me when I told him I could prove to the world what he had done, and he didn't take the risk to see his whole world being destroyed. And now, here we are."

Silence covered their motionless silhouettes for a while, lost in the darkness of the night. The moon, far above them, was still shining bright, though it wasn't as high in the sky as it had been before.

"I'm sorry," Sarah whispered, crying by now, and her body was shaken by a sob as she trembled against Sam's shoulder. "It's all my fault, if all this is happening to you. I'm sorry, it's all my fault if your lives are in danger. I'm sorry..."

Sam wrapped his arms around her, and pressed her tightly against his chest. He kissed her forehead.

"Don't be sorry. I'm glad you're here, with us."

She looked up at him, and he brushed away with his calloused thumbs the salty tears on her cheeks.

"I'm glad you discovered this bridge," he went on. "I'm glad to have known you. I wouldn't want any of this to change."

She stared at his dark eyes, in which the light of the moon was reflected, and traced crazy forms that looked strangely like her dreams.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asked her, his warm voice soft and reassuring.

"Of course," she answered, finally managing to stop her cries.

"Do you really think you will never go back to you time?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"I'm sorry," Sam told her, a guilty expression on his face. "I'm sorry you're stuck here with us."

"It could have been much worse, Sam," she told him with a small smile.

"You lost everything. You lost your life, and Gage took your last chance to get it back. I don't see how it could be worse. You're stuck at the breaking of a war you have nothing to do with, you will never go back home... And it's partly my fault."

"You're talking nonsense, how this could be your fault?"

Sam shrugged.

"I should have forced the German to send you all back home."

"You couldn't have done that."

"With a gun pointed at his head, I'm pretty sure he would have complied."

She let out a little laugh, her face shining with amusement.

"Why didn't you do it then?" she asked, joking.

But Sam wasn't joking at all.

"I didn't want you to go," he confessed.

She could have sworn there were tears in his eyes, he looked sheepishly at the ground.

"I should have done something. You would be safe by now," he breathed, his shaking voice betraying how guilty he felt.

"Sam, none of this is your fault," she reassured him.

"I..."

"There's nothing you could have done," she interrupted him.

"You could be safe by now. You could have your life back. You could be home. If I hadn't been selfish..."

She shushed him, pressing her fingertips to his mouth.

"If there is one person who isn't selfish at all in this world, it's you Sam. And you're wrong I haven't lost anything by staying here. But I would have lost everything if I had gone back to my own period."

She let her fingertips slip down on his chin, feeling her heart beating faster and faster as she kept her fingers resting upon his skin. His short beard tickled her skin delightfully... Sam could barely breathe, finally noticing that their faces were merely inches apart.

"I _am_ home, Sam," she whispered.

"But you can't have a life here," he argued. "You can't get attached, you can't... have the life you deserve to have."

"James is right to try," she replied. "We have the right to have a life of our own."

She could have sworn Sam had looked at her lips.

"As long as it doesn't change the future," she added.

Sam froze, his dark eyes set on her blue stare again.

"As long as you're not with someone who is important for the timeline," he said.

She nodded softly, and he distinguished sadness in her eyes.

"That's right," she breathed.

"It would be stupid indeed, to get involved in a relationship with a man who is not supposed to love you," Sam nodded slowly.

"Indeed, it would be stupid."

He forced himself to look away from her hypnotizing eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to control himself much longer if he didn't break eye contact.

"It's very late, we should go back to the house now," he mumbled, giving her back her photographs.

Sarah nodded, putting her memories in her box. They stood up, and walked back to the house, heading to bed. Sarah slipped her fingers in his hand, and Sam held her hand tightly against his strong palm all the way back to their bedrooms.

"Good night, Sarah," Sam breathed, as they reached the top of the stairs.

He couldn't help but kiss her brow. He knew he was resting his lips too long upon her skin, but he couldn't manage to tear his mouth away from her forehead... It required all the strength of his will not to run his hand through her hair...

He finally pulled away, staring at her eyes bathed in moonlight.

"Good night, Sam," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

He couldn't help but close his eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of her smooth lips upon his cheek...

She walked away to her bedroom, and disappeared. Sam let out a painful sigh, looking at the field outside by the window. The shy first lights of the morning were already replacing the night. He looked down at his feet.

Time always flew by to replace the past by the future anyway...


	20. Nightmares

**Sorry I'm late! Sorry, sorry, sorry, but University is terrible this year, I have barely anytime for myself. I don't think I'll be able to update again before next week.**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series in this chapter.**

 **One amazing thing about this chapter is that it's my 20th! And I've also updated more than 200 pages of my word document with this chapter, wich is pretty great I reckon! I'm proud ;)**

 **I didn't have any review for a while, but I will not despair! I still have hope I'll receive one sooner or later! Please, tell me what you think about this story, I'd really like to know your point of view about all this.**

* * *

 **Nightmares**

The beginning of the experiments of the three scientists were very encouraging. James was soon able to produce gunpowder, though the quantities synthesized were quite weak. Sarah was still studying her project of nitro-glycerine, and despite Michael's perplexed gazes, she was optimistic. Paul Revere was actually good at recruiting men, and he and his friends were bringing new man almost every day. Soon, the little farm was full of weapons and men training at shooting.

And actually, there was not only men practicing their aim.

"This is heavy," Sarah pointed out, lifting up the rifle from the ground.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Kelly asked her.

She wrinkled her nose.

"Don't start being pessimistic. I _can_ shoot."

She glared at Amos as he was snickering under his breath. Sam kicked him, shushing him up instantly.

"And... you are actually agreeing with this?" Hancock asked Sam, looking at the scientist as she was rising the rifle before her.

She was supporting with both hands the heavy firearm, and Sam had to admit that she didn't seem to know what she was doing at all.

"Hancock and Kelly are right," he said. "It's not a good idea."

"It _is_ a good idea. I have to get more familiar with this kind of rifle," Sarah replied.

"You won't have to use any anyway," Hancock argued.

She turned towards him, and looked at him with an untamed glance, like waves raging over the sea.

"I'm not going to remain behind when my friends are fighting. No, thank you."

"But..."

"There's no 'but'. I am fighting, end of story."

Hancock heaved a sigh, before turning towards Michael and James, who were watching the scene as well, having already finished their practice.

"And you agree with this?" Hancock asked them, taken aback before the gentlemen's behaviour.

"We know her enough to know that she won't listen to us anyway," Michael replied. "If she wants to fight with us, trust me, she will. And there is nothing that you could say or do that will make her change her mind."

"Indeed, Michael is right," Sarah nodded, taking position again.

Sam heaved a sigh, and walked closer to her.

"You'll hurt yourself," he told her softly.

She rolled her eyes.

"I can shoot," she replied, taking aim.

"You're not positioning your rifle in the right way," Sam told her.

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Why that?"

"You'll be hurt if you shoot, holding your rifle like this. It'll hurt your shoulder, as the rifle comes back towards you after you've shot."

She blinked, thinking hard, before nodding.

"The rifle is heavier than the ones I've used in the twenty-first century," she said.

"Let me show you," he told her softly.

He walked right behind her, and placed his hand on the firearm, readjusting the butt against the woman's shoulder.

"You've got to position it like this," he told her, his voice warm and low.

His breath against her ear sent wonderful shivers down her spine.

"Take your time to aim," he went on. "Relax, let your muscle be numb. You can't be precise if you're tensed. Just take a deep breath, and shoot."

He took several steps back, struggling to control his erratic heartbeat once again.

"It's okay if you miss a few times," Kelly reassured her.

The ghost of a defiant smile appeared on her red lips. And then, she took a deep breath... and fired.

A few meters away, the apple exploded in a thousand pieces.

And all around her, the men were propping up an eyebrow.

"You're good at this!" Kelly complimented her.

"Thanks Kelly," Sarah smiled.

"That was a nice shoot indeed," Sam nodded with a smile.

"I have to say that I am very impressed, Sarah," Hancock told her. "Very impressed."

"Thank you, gentlemen," Sarah smiled again.

Kelly went moving the targets, placing the fruits a few more metres away every time. But every time, Sarah's shot was perfect.

"Hell! She's even better than us, lads!" Kelly laughed, patting the woman's shoulder.

"Well, of course Kelly, I'm a woman after all. I'm better at everything," Sarah joked.

"Don't go too far though!" Michael laughed.

Sam congratulated her as well. As they were walking towards the house to eat their lunch, Sam noticed that Sarah was stroking her shoulder.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Sam asked her, frowning in worry.

"I'm fine, Sam," she reassured him. "I haven't been practicing for years now, I just need to find back my sensations, and I'll be just fine."

"I don't want you to hurt yourself..."

"I'm not hurt, relax!"

She laughed, and walked into the house. Hancock stopped Sam as he was about to follow her in the hallway.

"Are you really going to encourage her to continue with her... practice?" Hancock asked him.

Sam shrugged.

"If she wants to train like any of us, she can."

"I see..."

Sam stared intensely into Hancock's glance.

"But don't worry, I don't intend to let her use one of these on a battlefield."

The two men nodded, before walking into the house, where Sarah was already serving their lunch.

* * *

He could see her smile. A bright ray of sunshine that she must have taken from the sun to place upon her lips. It was the only explanation to such brightness. He extended his hand to caress softly her cheek, trying to memorize every detail of her skin, to remember how she looked, how her smile felt under his fingertips. A smile... just a smile... he didn't need anything more. One of her smile, and he was the happiest man in the world. He was never able to understand these men who dedicated their lives to money. They always craved for more in the end, and were never satisfied. And he knew from experience that there was so many better things in this world than money. Money was just a futile preoccupation that everyone had think about as it was the only way to survive. End of story. Money was about survival. But this... _This_ was not about surviving. It was about living.

She closed her eyes and he let his fingertips wander up her cheek to her closed eyelids. She giggled, the feeling of his fingertips on her sensitive skin tickling her. He finally noticed that he was grinning like a mere idiot. But he couldn't have cared less about looking like an idiot, not when his whole life was standing before him, under his fingertips.

He lost his soul in these deep blue eyes he loved so much.

He couldn't find words to describe how beautiful Sarah was under the moonlight. He felt like he was the luckiest man in the world.

"Sam," she smiled, her voice amused. "What are you waiting for?"

He propped up an eyebrow.

"I'm merely enjoying this moment," he answered, his voice low, barely more audible than a whisper.

She laughed, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Stop waiting for me. Act. Act now."

He stared at her in the eyes, unable to move, or speak, or breathe, or think...

Suddenly, her arms were not around his neck anymore. She looked sad all of a sudden, tortured, in pain...

"Do something Sam, before it's too late," she begged him.

He still couldn't move a muscle.

"Why are you waiting? Why can't you tell me how you feel?"

He could feel tears blurring his vision.

"You'll lose me forever..." she went on.

Suddenly, they were in a cemetery... he had no idea how they had gone there, but there were tombs around them, tombs everywhere...

"...Just like you lost her..."

He looked down at the grave she was pointing at.

It was the name of his wife carved into the cold stone. He knew the writings perfectly, every single line and curve, every word, every letter... He had spent so much time there when she had died, leaving him behind, going to a place where he couldn't follow. He was too scared to follow by then, though the idea had slowly settled in his mind. And every day, he would go there, and stare at her grave, and remember everything he had lost on that dreadful day. He was living in the past he had lost...

...Until a woman from the future arrived to bring him back to the present.

It had felt like betrayal at first, and he had to admit it still felt so sometimes. As if, only by thinking about Sarah, by imagining that perhaps he could have a life with her, this life that had been taken from him the first time he had had a chance, he was betraying his wife. He was betraying her. And it was breaking his heart...

But he couldn't live like this anymore, and he knew it. It had been years since he had gone to this grave. Years that he had kneeled down before the stone, crying, talking sometimes as if she could hear him from wherever she was now. It had been years since he had walked into this cemetery, turned directly on the right, passed the great white grave of an ancient governor, walked around the bushes of hawthorns, strode across the grass, passed three more graves, and turned on his left to find her, to find Elisabeth...

And yet every single day, she was on his mind.

He didn't think she would be angry against him to love someone else than her. It wasn't as if he hadn't mourned her, as if he had jumped in the bed of the first woman he could have found. He knew that if she could have talked to him again, she would have told him to live his life again, to overcome her death, to rebuild a new life in the ashes of their destroyed home.

But the truth was, he was terrified.

He was paralysed by a fear that made him lose his mind, a fear he had never felt before. He was terrified at the idea of living this all over again. Now that he knew what it was to lose the person that he loved the most, he couldn't find the strength to take this jump again. To leap into the unknown, just to fall into the arms of this person to whom he gave everything he owned. All is love, his soul, his body, without limit, a leap of faith that felt so good, a dive he was happy to plunge into as the fall was sweet...

But when the fall stopped, and he hit the ground, there was nothing more terrible. And he couldn't do it all over again.

Suddenly, Sarah touched his hand, freeing him from this trance he was stuck into, stopping his thoughts. He stared at her blue eyes again.

"You must do something, Sam," she repeated.

Again, he couldn't find the strength to answer.

"I won't be here forever, you must act now," she begged again. "You must, Sam!"

Finally he shook his head.

"I can't, " he breathed. "I can't do this..."

"Why?"

"I can't live this all over again, I... I couldn't save her..."

A tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn't bother to sweep it away.

"What if I can't save you as well? What if... what if you leave?"

He clenched his fists, speaking through his gritted teeth, salty tears rolling down his cheeks.

"What if you leave?" he asked again. "Because you can go back to your home, or because... because..."

His voice broke, and she kept her blue eyes fixed on his dark glance.

"Sam..." she whispered, her voice sounding weak all of a sudden. "Sam... you should have told me. You should have told me how you felt, while we still had time."

She was very pale all of a sudden, and then...

Then there was blood on her chest, drenching her white shirt...

He caught her just in time, right before she would hit the ground. He looked down at her with his eyes wide with panic, cradling her in his arms.

"No... Sarah no..." he breathed, crying again. "Sarah you can't leave now..."

"It's too late, Sam."

"NO!"

"You're too late..."

"NO! Sarah!"

Her eyelids fluttered, and then closed.

And against his chest he couldn't feel her heartbeat anymore...

He looked around him, searching desperately for help, begging, praying, crying. But there were only graves around him, only cold stones, no one who could help. There was only these tombs, only his wife's grave...

He froze.

On the cold stone, it wasn't his wife's name that was carved anymore.

It was Sarah's.

* * *

He woke up in a sweat, struggling for breath, jumping upright as he finally opened his eyes. He struggled to calm down, to slow down his pounding heart, to find back his breathing. He stared at the wooden door before him, barely distinguishable in the darkness of the moonless night. There was not a single sound around him. The house was silent. Everyone was asleep. He looked outside, watching the little dots of light the stars alit through the window. He swallowed back the lump in his throat.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to tell her, he had wanted to tell her how he felt for a while. And the two of them living under the same roof was not helping at all. But he was so scared... he was so scared that his nightmares could come true... And if Life had taught him anything, it was that most of the time, reality preferred to take the shapes of nightmares rather than dreams. And God knew what had not killed him had never made him stronger at all. He forced himself to fall back upon his pillow, closing his eyes once more, trying to forget this awful dream of his.

It was just a nightmare after all...

* * *

Sam was watching Sarah training at shooting again. He looked at her as she set her rifle against her shoulder, and then took her aim, before pulling on the trigger. He saw her blinking as the detonation was shaking her entire body, and a few meters away, the apple exploded as the little bullet pierced right through it.

"I've got to say, I'm still surprised you're letting her do this."

Sam finally torn his dark glance away from the scientist, and looked at Paul Revere.

"I mean, you've been quite protective with her so far," Paul went on. "Why this sudden change of heart?"

Sam looked at the scientist again.

"What makes you think I'll let her use a weapon in any other circumstance than this training?" he answered slowly.

Paul nodded.

"Sounds more like you," he smiled to his friend.

Sam didn't answer, and Paul took his silence for a will to change the subject of their conversation. But he had one last warning to say.

"You should tell her frankly. You shouldn't let her think that she will fight with us when the time comes," Paul told Sam.

"I don't see what it would change," Sam answered cautiously.

Paul shrugged.

"Well, first, it would be a way to prevent her from making a scene when the day comes for her to step aside and to let us take the risks, while she remains behind."

Sam remained motionless.

"And..." Paul went on. "It would probably prevent her to be mad at you when you forbid her to go."

Sam remained silent again, and before his friend's behaviour, Paul knew that his only option was to change the subject.

" _Brought you some more men for the cause,_ " he told Sam, looking at the men who were firing next to Sarah. " _They are training. With luck, we should be ready soon enough._ "

Sam silently nodded.

" _What about weapons?_ " Paul asked him cautiously.

A small smiled appeared on Sam's lips.

" _Follow me._ "

He guided Revere through the barn, until they would come to the room they used as a storage for all their weapons. An impressive collection of swords, rifles, muskets and pistols were aligned upon wooden shelves. Paul let out a whistle.

" _It's a lot of guns._ "

Sam nodded.

"Hancock is more generous towards us than I would have expected him to be," Sam told his friend.

"Hancock bought all of these?" Paul asked, propping up an eyebrow.

"How do you think I could have found the money by myself anyway?" Sam answered.

"Bloody hell! Soon, Hancock will turn fully into a rebel!"

They chuckled.

"I'm afraid he has finally run out of money though," Sam sighed. "For now at least."

"It's already a miracle that he paid for all this."

"Sarah was right about him, I guess," Sam nodded.

"You still don't fully trust him though, do you?" Paul asked him.

Sam shrugged.

"I'm not sure of anything yet."

"Still, it's an encouraging sight for us," Paul replied, nodding towards the weapons.

" _Still no way to shoot them, though,_ " Sam sighed.

" _You're short on gunpowder?_ "

" _Even if we had the money, Gage has made sure nobody's selling._ "

"What about James's powder? I thought he had managed to make some."

"He has, but he can't produce enough of it for us to use. It barely covers our consumption for the training."

"I see..."

Sam and Paul turned around at the sound of footsteps coming their way.

"Good morning, Paul!" Sarah grinned.

"'Morning Sarah."

"You've finished to train?" Sam asked her.

"Yes, I reckon it's enough for a day. I still have lots of work to do concerning our explosives," she answered, walking towards the staircase.

"Sarah," Sam called after her.

"Yes?"

"Could I have a word, please?"

"Of course."

Paul immediately understood and strode out of the room, leaving Sam and Sarah alone in the barn.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"I..."

He searched for the right words, but he couldn't find any way to express his thoughts. She looked at his tired expression.

"You look exhausted," she pointed out, her voice soft and soothing. "You should rest more."

"I'm fine."

"You're having nightmares."

He frowned.

"How could you know?" he asked warily.

"I heard you last night," she answered slowly. "You cried in your sleep."

Sam's jaw was suddenly set, and he remained silent, not knowing what he could answer to this statement.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asked kindly.

He shook his head. How could he talk to her about his dreams, when _she_ was his dreams?

"It was merely... past messing with my head, nothing more."

"Past?" she asked, taking a step closer to him.

She was looking at him with such a kind and tender glance, that he couldn't imagine how he could ever remain silent now. But on the other hand, he couldn't tell her... it would mean that he had to confess everything, and he couldn't do this.

"It's a long story..." he hesitantly answered. "And that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What was it? Your dream?" she insisted.

He shook his head, taking a step back, feeling tears blurring his vision at the memory of her dead body in his arms. But she took his hand in hers, forcing him to look up at her again.

"You know you can trust me," she told him. "Tell me."

Sam heaved a sigh, leaning against the closest table, vanquished.

"It was... my wife..." he breathed.

Sarah gave him some time to go on, and she didn't have to encourage him, as he soon spoke again.

"She died, a long time ago," he said, fleeing her intense blue gaze. "It comes back to haunt me from time to time. That's all. Nothing that I can't handle, really."

He bit his tongue. He couldn't remain silent, but it didn't mean that he had to tell her everything about his torturing dreams.

She leaned against the table next to him.

"How did she die?" she asked softly.

"Childbirth," he merely answered, his teeth gritting as he tried to control the tears that had appeared in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged.

"It was a long time ago. Before all of this. Before the world became as crazy as it is these days. Before you came here."

She cleared her throat, knowing she was doing a mistake as the words formed on her tongue, but it was already too late to hold them back.

"And your child?"

He clenched his jaw, merely shaking his head. She sighed, closing her eyes, before reaching for his hand again.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," he answered. "As I said, it was a long time ago. In another life..."

He stood straighter, freeing his hand from her soothing hold.

"It's not what I wanted to talk to you about," he said.

"What was it then?" she encouraged him to pursue.

He looked intensely at her, his confident and determined glint back in his eyes.

"It's about your training."

She frowned.

"I thought I was doing fine, compared to the rest of the men..."

"No, you are very skilled with a rifle. That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

He took a deep breath, unable to look away from her hypnotic glance, as these two orbs seemed to have stolen his very soul.

"I meant that... you shouldn't train anymore."

She frowned.

"Why?"

"Because it's useless."

"Why? I mean, I'm not that skilled. If I want to fight, then I need to practice..."

"That's the point, Sarah," Sam interrupted her. "You will not fight."

Sarah propped up an eyebrow.

"I do beg your pardon?" she gawked.

"Sarah, it's too dangerous..."

"I'm not going to let you leave me behind..."

"I'm not giving you a choice."

"We always have a choice."

"Sarah, please. I'm not saying this against you. I'm merely trying to protect you..."

"I'm not important, Sam..."

"Stop saying this," he interrupted her, annoyed. "You know it's not true."

"Sam..."

"I won't let you endanger yourself like this."

"You can't choose for me. It's my life Sam. I'm free to do whatever I want with it."

"I won't let you..."

"Sam, please, you have to understand..."

"No, you're not fighting. End of story."

She glared at him, her fists suddenly clenched, her cheeks reddening.

"Is it because I'm a woman?"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"For God's sake Sarah! Can't you see I'm just trying to..."

"Leave me behind? Thank you, I had noticed."

He sighed angrily, struggling to calm down. Eventually, he took a step closer to her, and put a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"Sarah, I know you're more than able to fight. I know you're willing to do so as well. But I can't let you get hurt."

"Sam..."

"No, listen to me," he interrupted her, but his voice was soft and warm.

He took her face in his hands.

"I don't want you to be hurt. I couldn't overcome it. I know I couldn't, not this time."

She frowned slightly, but he didn't give her enough time to ask anything.

"I'm merely trying to make you realize how dangerous it is..."

"I know it's dangerous," she interrupted him. "But you must understand that I will not let you push me away when all my friends are out there, fighting for what is right. I could never face myself again..."

They stared at each other for a while, both of them wrapped in silence.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

And before he could react, she had freed herself from his tender grasp, and had stridden out of the room.

* * *

" _It's massive. Probably holds... 10 000 pounds of powder._ "

"'Makes lots of powder. Much more than I can produce, at least."

Paul smiled to James. Sam, sitting on an empty barrel, looked out of the barn. Down there, in the field, men were training shooting upon improvised targets, like apples or empty bottles of wine.

" _How many?_ " Sam asked Paul, his dark eyes still fixed upon the field.

" _Our man, Salem, says usually less than ten, more than three, it varies,_ " Paul answered. " _But there's an entire garrison of regular stations nearby._ "

" _An entire garrison...?_ " Hancock breathed, his eyes round with apprehension.

" _Yes._ "

"It complicates things, for sure," Michael mumbled, playing with a bullet, making it roll upon the floor with the tip of his boot.

" _Oh I..._ " Hancock shook his head, clearly afraid, leaning against the wall behind him. " _I don't know, gentlemen. Is there not another way?_ "

"We can't produce enough gunpowder, John," Sarah shook her head. "And we are in desperate need of it right now."

" _This is our chance,"_ Sam said, looking up at Hancock. " _Don't worry, we'll be alright._ "

" _Salem says they're in a clearing_ ," Revere pointed out. " _There's no way out without being seen._ "

A small smile appeared upon Sam's face.

" _Who said anything about not being seen?_ "

He stood up, patting Hancock's shoulder.

"I've got a plan, don't worry. Just give me a moment."

Hancock nodded, letting Sam walk out of the room. Sarah followed him outside.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him, curiosity oozing from her voice.

"Well, I don't know, you tell me. You're the one from the future after all."

She could see the small smile on his lips, and she let out a merry laugh.

"That would make the job way too easy for you," she joked.

He chuckled.

"I guess you're right."

"So... what do you have in mind?"

He looked at her intensely, deadly serious all of a sudden.

"Sarah, I don't want you to come."

"Sam..."

"You're not getting hurt because of us."

"Sam..."

"I won't let you..."

She shushed him, resting her fingertips upon his lips.

"There are no words you could speak to make me change my mind," she said softly. "You're not leaving me behind."

He wrapped his calloused fingers around the smooth skin of her wrist, and pushed softly her hand away from his mouth.

"I could still force you to stay here," he told her, staring intensely at her, and it seemed that he could read her very soul.

"And how are you planning on forcing me to stay here?" she asked, a defiant shakiness in her voice.

"There are many men here, it shouldn't be a problem."

She clenched her jaws, a fierce glint igniting her blue eyes.

"I'd like to see you try," she snapped.

He closed his eyes, wincing at the sound of her bitter tone.

"I don't want us to fight now," he told her soothingly.

She relaxed.

"Sam, we've been through all this already. And I think that I've been quite clear."

"I..."

"Sam, please."

He heaved a painful sigh, looking down at the ground. He finally let go of her wrist.

"You'll do exactly what I say," he ordered. "You'll obey, without asking questions nor arguing. I'll be the one in charge, not you. Am I clear?"

She nodded.

"Thank you," she smiled.

She kissed his cheek, making his heart stop.

"Don't thank me for this," he breathed, her face still only inches away from his. "You should rather hate me for being so weak..."

She laughed.

"Sam, how could you say such things about yourself?" she admonished.

"It's true though. It seems like I can never make you change your mind, that I'm the only one who always backs away in the end."

She shook her head, amused.

"You're very brave, Sam."

They remained motionless for a while, merely staring at each other.

"Don't worry about me, Sam," she reassured him. "I'll be just fine. I know what I'm doing."

She turned around and walked away, heading back to the barn. Sam looked at her as she was striding across the field, her long dark hair floating in the breeze, shining under the pale morning light. He heaved a sigh.

He was pretty sure that he would not know a peaceful night before a very, very long time...


	21. Sparks And Gunpowder

**Here comes a new chapter! I hope you didn't wait too long for me.**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series in this chapter.**

 **I'll update again next week, of course ;)**

 **I hope you like this chapter. Please, tell me what you think about it. Don't forget to review :)**

* * *

 **Sparks And Gunpowder**

So this was the end. James had to admit that he had never imagined that he would die this way: shot by a man he didn't know, who was living two hundred years before his own birth. It was a weird thing to think about indeed. He was about to die two hundred years before being born. That's what he called irony.

The loud _click_ of the firearm being armed pierced the motionless air, and through the night, it sounded like a shout.

James struggled to swallow back the lump in his throat. If one thing was for sure, he would not die begging for his life. It wasn't the behaviour expected from the kind of man he wanted to be. For sure, he had never been as reckless as his two friends, but he wasn't a coward. He didn't want to kill, nor to be killed, he was terrified right now, as he could see the Red Coat's finger slowly pressed harder against the trigger. But he would not grant Gage the joy of begging for his life. He would be brave, like he had always wanted to be. He had never been a hero, he knew he didn't have the strength in him to be. But if he couldn't live like a hero, at least, he would die like one.

He fought against the urge to look away from the soldier's eyes. He wanted this young man to look into his eyes as he pulled the trigger, as the boy was taking all traces of life away from his body. He wanted this boy to remember him, when he was an old man. James wanted him to remember this man he had shot in the woods at the breaking of dawn as he was guarding gunpowder, this man from the future with big blue eyes who had not protested nor flinched as he was shooting him right in the chest. James wanted him to remember the expression on his face. At least, one person in this world would remember James Williamson.

The finger of this young man was pressed a bit harder against the trigger.

James kept staring at the boy. Because it was a boy, it was just a scared, terrified young boy, who was merely following orders. He couldn't be more than nineteen years old. James could have almost call him a son. It was one of the regrets of his life, he realized, not having had children. He was thirty-six now, and he had never been married, he had never had children, he had never loved...

No, it wasn't true. He had loved. He had loved this blond woman who was serving Gage's wife at the second he had laid eyes on her. He hadn't told her how he felt though. He had never hold her hand, nor kissed her wonderfully red lips, nor ran a hand through her golden hair, nor woke up in the morning to find her by his side. He wished he could have more time on this earth. If he had then... then he knew perfectly what he would do.

He would marry Mary Broadwood.

He could already see Michael and Sarah standing next to him, and everyone gathered before the barn at Barrett's farm, and wild flowers in her hair, and idiotic smile on their faces. And Warren would cry, for sure, and Sam would faint to be worried about everything, though James knew perfectly he would be happy for the two of them, and Hancock would buy them wonderful clothes and would come in his most richly decorated garments, and Revere and Kelly would drink too much, and...

There was a loud explosion a few meters away, as the powder gathered in the clearing was exploding.

And almost at the same moment, a detonation pierced the night...

* * *

 _Forty hours earlier_

"Mr. Franklin!"

The elder man let out a happy laugh as the French scientist was hurrying out of the barn to hold him in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad to see you!" she cried, laughing merrily.

"I'm more than glad to see you as well, Sarah," he said, picking up his bag and walking with her towards the house.

"How long are you staying?"

"Not long I'm afraid. I'm more helpful in Philadelphia anyway. But I had to see you all, it is quite lonely down there. Of course, I have friends in Philadelphia as well, but it's not the same. I'm having much more fun with you all!"

They both laughed merrily, walking through the grass, their boots still drenched with mud after the heavy rains of the night. In the morning light, fog was blurring the shapes of trees and bushes in the distance.

When they entered the house, they found themselves caught in a raging argument between Sam and Michael.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Michael roared. "How could you think for just a second..."

"We cannot take this risk," Sam coldly replied, his firm tone leaving no chance for Michael to convince him.

"I can't believe you want to leave us all behind!"

"Michael, I will not take this risk."

"What's going on?" Franklin asked Warren, Kelly, Hancock and Revere, who were watching the scene from the threshold of the living room.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Franklin," they all welcomed the elder man.

"It is pleasure to see you all as well, but what is happening?"

"Sam doesn't want the scientists to help us to steal some gunpowder to Gage and his men."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I thought we had come to an agreement," she complained.

"Sam seems to have changed his mind," Warren shrugged.

She heaved a sigh, walking towards the two men who were still arguing, and she sat at the table.

"Sam, what is it this time?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

He winced at the sound of her tone.

"Michael wants to come with us to the Red Coats' camp."

"We have never said that we would have to wait next to the cart with Hancock," Michael replied.

"Actually, Michael, we have," Sarah replied.

"No, we haven't. We have agreed that _you_ would stay with Hancock..."

She glowered at him, and he instantly fell silent, knowing that the storm that was brewing in her eyes was about to be unleashed upon him, and he would not like it at all.

"So... I'm a woman and I'm good at nothing?" she snapped.

Michael rolled his eyes.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"We can't take the risk of you being captured," Sam told him. "You shouldn't be coming at all actually..."

"We're not going back there, Sam," Sarah interrupted him.

"We should," he answered.

"We will not be left behind. But you're right on the point that it would be disastrous if we were made prisoners by Gage. Then, you would have no help at all from us whatsoever. And it would be too much of a disadvantage."

"I'm not going to remain idle there when others are taking risks," Michael stated.

"We're not going to be idle, Michael, we'll be at the end of the line," she tried to calm him down.

"Yeah, waiting like a bunch of cowards to run away as fast as we can."

"Don't say things like that. You know it's not true."

Michael heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I'm tired of being stuck here," he confessed.

"I know, I'm tired of this too."

Michael heaved a sigh again, standing up.

"I'll go check your last calculations about the nitro-glycerine."

She nodded, and Michael walked out of the house.

"It's good to see you, Dr. Franklin," Sam welcomed the elder man, shaking hands.

"I can see that the situation is quite tensed here," Franklin said.

"He will calm down. What about the explosives by the way?" Sam added, turning his attention upon Sarah.

"We should be ready to start to synthesize nitro-glycerine next week."

"Good."

"Why it is so tensed between you and Michael?" Franklin insisted.

Sam heaved a sigh, but remained silent.

"Michael wants to fight, he wants to be on the front line," Sarah answered.

"And it's not going to happen," Sam replied.

"He's feeling like he's being left behind, and he's not the only one."

Sam stared intensely at Sarah.

"I thought you understood..."

"I do understand your argument, that we cannot take the risk to be taken prisoners. And you're right, it's a good argument."

She stood up.

"But there's something else on your mind. And Michael seems to have felt it too. You're not completely honest with us right now, Sam. Gage is not the only reason you don't want us to fight. But you won't tell us the truth."

Sam merely stared silently at her.

"And I have to admit," she went on. "That it is very annoying."

She strode out of the room, leaving the Colonists alone in the room.

Franklin turned towards Sam, looking cautiously at him as he was finally sitting down next to him.

"I guess you and Sarah should talk, Mr. Adams," he said.

"We have already talked," Sam defensively replied.

"Not about the important things, clearly."

Sam kept his eyes fixed on the door, where Sarah had just disappeared.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he breathed.

Franklin heaved a sigh.

"As you wish, Mr. Adams. But if I may give you the advice of a man who has already lived many years on this earth... We have very little time, Sam."

Sam finally looked at Franklin.

"And it would be a shame," Franklin went on, "that you would miss your chance to tell Sarah how you feel."

Sam narrowed his eyes, but Franklin merely shook his head, amused.

"Don't look at me with such an outraged expression," he told the younger man. "I don't reckon it is a secret for anyone here that you have feelings for Sarah. Except for Sarah herself, of course. And who could blame you? Except Michael, of course."

Sam stared at Franklin, his jaws clenched.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said through gritted teeth, though his tone was soft.

Sam stood up, and headed for his bedroom.

Indeed, how could Franklin know how torn apart he felt? He wasn't the one who kept on dreaming about her dying every night...

* * *

The shadows around them were too deep for them to see more than a few meters before them. It was a bad idea. The closer they came to the clearing, the more Sarah was thinking that they should have never had come there. It was too dangerous, it was crazy, and reckless... The cart finally came to a stop. Sam helped her to get down, and he kept her hand in his once she was back on the ground.

"Be careful," she whispered, staring at his dark eyes, barely visible in the darkness of the night.

He gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'll be just fine," he answered, whispering as well. "You stay here, and if things go ill..."

"I take Hancock, and run away," she finished for him.

He nodded, unable to tear his gaze from her infinite blue eyes.

"Don't wait for us," he insisted.

"I know, Sam."

She kissed his cheek.

"Good luck."

He smiled, before walking away through the trees, guiding his men towards the Red Coats' camp.

And Sarah had a terrible feeling about this.

* * *

Four Red Coats. There were four Red Coats turning around the building where the gunpowder was stored. Sam took a deep breath, looking at the soldier who was walking his way. He had blown up the lantern next to the shed behind which he was hiding, and now, Sam merely had to wait for the Red Coat to come closer, to knock him out, and to take his place as a sentry. He took a deep breath, a wry smile on his lips.

It was easier said than done, clearly...

Sam took a look at the watchtower above him. There was a Red Coat up there, watching his fellow companion walking towards the lantern. Sam took another deep breath.

Perhaps it wasn't a good idea after all...

The soldier had almost reached the lantern. Sam knocked softly upon the wooden wall to get the soldier's attention. And indeed, the Red Coat started to walk towards the shed, pointing his rifle towards the source of the noise.

Before he could see him, Sam had jumped out of the shadows and knocked him out. He picked up the rifle and the soldier's hat.

" _Everything alright?_ " the soldier from the watchtower called.

Sam walked away from the shed, keeping his face hidden, just in case the soldier could recognize that he wasn't his comrade, and reassured the guard with a quick gesture of the hand, before lighting up the lantern again. He couldn't refrain a sigh as he was taking his place in the circle that the sentries were tracing around the gunpowder storage.

For now, all was fine.

He saw Kelly running towards the building as he was passing before the forest, and the Irishman hid against the wall. As Sam was turning around the corner again, Kelly knocked out the Red Coat who was following him.

Sam refrained his urge to sweep away the drops of sweat that were rolling down his brow and his temples, the salty liquid stinging his eyes and making him blink. But he was too afraid to draw attention upon him. After all, it was quite cold, he wasn't supposed to be sweating.

Once he was back behind the building, facing the forest again, Kelly had already knocked out the two other sentries, and his men were now walking around the storage as well. Revere and Kelly were already breaking into the building, a smile on their faces. Sam hurried up towards them, taking a look insight. He nodded, whilst his two friends were smirking. He silently told them to go on, and resumed his walk around the building. He could hear the hurrying footsteps of men coming out of the forest to help Kelly and Paul. Sam took a cautious look at the watchtower again, but the sentry wasn't looking at them at all. Sam couldn't refrain a sigh of relief.

Perhaps they did have a chance...

* * *

Dawn was setting fire to the sky. Lazy clouds were drifting in the golden sky, red sparks alit on their surface by the rising sun. It had been hours ago now that they had started to empty the storage, and there was still many barrels of gunpowder inside. But as Sam noticed the Red Coats walking towards them, he knew they had no time left. The soldiers were coming to take their place as sentries. They had to go, and they had to go now...

He hurried towards Kelly and Revere, who were still carrying barrels.

" _Boys, we've got to go. Now,_ " he whispered to his friends.

The two men nodded, and soon, Revere was emptying a barrel inside the room whilst the others were running towards the woods. Sam waited for his men to have reached the forest, his heart pounding in his heart.

And then the alarm rang.

Sarah jumped, hearing footsteps hurrying towards them. She held her breath. Next to her, Michael had taken his pistol. James took a step closer to his friends as well.

"Get ready to go," Sarah told her friends.

They all climbed in the cart, except for Sarah.

"We have to go," Hancock urged her.

She shook her head, looking frantically around her. But there was no one coming beyond the trees, or down the slope next to the road, nor anywhere she could see.

"They'll come back."

She jumped again, hearing hurrying footsteps behind her. The next second, a Red Coat was grabbing her wrist.

James jumped down the cart, and pushed him away from Sarah, rolling down the slope, and disappearing behind bushes.

"James!" she called.

She turned around and grabbed a pistol in the cart. But before she could hurry to rescue James, a hand was holding tenderly her wrist.

She looked up, meeting Sam's dark eyes.

"James..." she breathed, but he shushed her with a nod.

"I'll take care of this, you, you get in this cart, and you go away from here, before the entire garrison falls upon us."

"But..."

Before she could protest, Sam had disappeared down the slope as well, and Amos and Kelly were dragging her into the cart.

"We have to go, Sarah. And we have to go now," Amos told her.

Michael held her by the arms to prevent her from jumping down the cart again.

"We can't leave them here," she protested.

But behind them, the powder they couldn't steal exploded, and almost simultaneously, a detonation echoed through the woods.

Hancock forced the horses to walk forward.

"No, John!" Sarah ordered, tears blurring her vision. "We can't leave them here..."

"They're coming!" Michael cried.

And indeed, only a few meters away, James and Sam were climbing up the slope, reaching the road again.

"John, you must wait for them."

Hancock heaved a sigh, but stopped the horses anyway.

They could hear the Red Coats shouting through the woods, coming closer and closer.

"Go! Go! Go now!" Sam cried.

Hancock obeyed, and the two men ran after the cart as it advanced through the trees.

"Your hand James!" Michael ordered, helping his friend to get into the cart.

Kelly offered his open palm to Sam.

" _Samuel, move your arse!_ " the Irishman ordered.

Seconds later, Sam was safely sitting in the cart as well, and Hancock was pushing the horses forward, making them run as fast as they could.

The moment he was sitting in the cart, Sam found two arms wrapped around his neck.

"My God, Sam... You scared me so much," Sarah whispered, pressing him against her.

He held her close to him.

"I'm fine. We're all fine, Sarah."

* * *

General Thomas Gage was infuriated. He wasn't known to be a very patient man, but now, he was in a rage that even his Major had not often seen him into. He was silently guiding his horse back and forth before the line of the aligned soldiers and officers, glowering at them. Pitcairn could see that, from time to time, Gage's glance drifted towards the burnt ruins of what had been their reserve of powder. Gage's lip twitched.

" _Two hundred barrels of gunpowder_ ," he said slowly, his voice shaking with anger. " _Gone, in our enemy's hands. Tell me... How is it that a full company of His Majesty's marines were outsmarted by a bunch of snivelling Yankee shits?!_ "

Pitcairn struggled to swallow.

" _It is simply inexcusable, Sir_ ," he said. " _I assure you proper punishment..._ "

"You will find Samuel Adams and John Hancock, along with the three scientists, before this week is out," Gage interrupted him.

He threw his Major one last hateful look, before walking away.

" _Yes, Sir_ ," Pitcairn breathed.

He couldn't see how he could find them. Not on his own, at least.

It was time for him to ask for the help of men who knew much more about the future than he did.

* * *

Franklin hurried towards his friends, worry badly hidden upon his face.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked.

John Adams was soon by his side, heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of his cousin.

"It was very stupid, and reckless," he admonished.

Sam smiled.

"I'm happy to see you as well, John."

But his cousin was too relieved to mind his jokes, and he patted his cousin's shoulder.

"You shouldn't have done that. Gage will not like it..."

"We need gunpowder if we want to stand a chance against Gage," Sam replied.

"Let's not talk about strategy and all these unpleasant things any longer," Franklin interrupted them. "For now, we have ammunitions, and we are all safe. I reckon it deserves some celebration."

"Indeed, you should listen to him," Sarah told the two cousins. "Dr. Franklin speaks wisdom, as always."

They laughed, walking towards the barn where the barrels were being transported. James touched Sam's shoulder, making him turn his attention towards him.

"Sam... about what happened in the forest..."

But Sam shook his head.

"It was nothing, James."

"You killed someone," James replied. "You killed someone to save my life. I reckon it _is_ something."

James offered him his open hand.

"Thank you," he told the Colonist. "I hope I'll have the chance to pay back my debt."

Sam shook his hand, nodding silently, and then they followed their friends into the barn to celebrate their victory. Sam looked up at the sky, enjoying the feeling of the sun upon his skin.

After all, at least for that day, life was good.

* * *

It was already late when Sam saw Sarah walking out of the barn. He couldn't help but follow her outside. He didn't know if she wanted company, perhaps he should have remained in the barn. But he was drawn to her by a force he couldn't explain by words, an invisible force that continually seemed to bind him to her. He didn't know what it was, but it was strong enough to prevent his brain from thinking.

He didn't know what this feeling was, or perhaps he just didn't want to admit to himself what it was, it didn't really mattered. In the end, it led to the same result. He was still following her out of the barn, and under a great oak.

"I thought you were enjoying the party," she told him, turning around to face him.

"I was," he answered. "I was merely curious to know where you were going."

"I just needed a bit of fresh air."

He slowly nodded.

"Would you prefer to be left alone?" he asked her, his voice hesitant.

She reassuringly smiled at him.

"No, Sam. I don't want to be left alone."

They exchanged a smile, before sitting down under the cover of the tree.

"How is your work going on?" he asked her softly, speaking the first question that crossed his mind.

"We're on schedule. We'll soon be done. Don't worry about this."

He nodded.

"Franklin says he's trying to keep contact with the men who came at the last debate. He's also trying to convince more people to support us," Sam said, but his voice sounded sceptical.

"It's important, Sam. We can't do this on our own," Sarah told him.

"I know."

She stared at him for a while, silently examining his weary expression.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

He looked at her.

"What's troubling you so much? You look exhausted," she added.

He heaved a sigh, shrugging. His heart was painful under his ribs. He couldn't tell her the truth...

"I'm fine."

"You're lying," she answered, annoyed.

But there was more than annoyance in her tone. There was pain as well. Sam sighed again.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"The truth would be a good start."

"I can't tell you the truth, Sarah."

"You don't trust me?"

He shook his head.

"I just can't."

"Is it because of your nightmares again?" she insisted.

"Partly," he confessed.

He could never remain silent when she forced him to speak the truth like this. One of the numerous powers she had on him, without a doubt...

"Is it your wife again?" she asked softly.

He cleared his throat.

"Not really," he elusively answered.

"What is it then? What do you see in your dreams?"

But he didn't answer, and she heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Why do you never talk to me?"

"That's not true, I do talk to you," he defended himself.

"About plans, and strategy, and ammunitions, yes... but not about yourself."

She shrugged.

"I'm just trying to help."

He stared at her, his intense glance forcing her to stare at him as well.

"I know you want to help. But I don't think you can," he breathed.

"Tell me. What do you see in your dreams?"

He clenched his jaws.

"I see you dying."

She stared at him, too shocked to answer.

"It always ends the same way," he told her. "I'm always too late. You always die, and I can never..."

He stared at her blue eyes, and he couldn't control the words that were passing his lips.

"I can never tell you the truth."

"The truth about what?" she asked.

"Many things. Why I'm always so annoying at protecting you, why I don't want you to take risks, why I don't want you to leave this world..."

"And why are you doing all this?"

He closed his eyes, lowering his head. He couldn't tell her. He had tried, but he couldn't...

"Another day, I'll tell you, maybe..."

He stood up, and walked towards the house. He turned towards the barn as he felt a stare set upon him.

And the disapproving look Michael sent him told Sam that he had been right to bite his tongue.

* * *

When Yuri saw the Major walking into the room, he knew he was in trouble. He knew Pitcairn was about to ask him to do something he would not like at all. He forced a smile upon his lips anyway.

"Major, what can I do for you?" he asked Pitcairn.

The officer sat down at the table opposite Yuri.

"I've heard General Gage is quite angry against you these days. I've heard he doesn't let you leave the house anymore," Pitcairn said.

"Indeed. Since we've discovered what had been stolen..."

"He doesn't trust you anymore," Pitcairn finished for him.

Yuri nodded, his fists clenched.

"Well, I am here to offer you an opportunity," Pitcairn went on. "A chance to find back the General's trust."

Yuri narrowed his eyes.

"And what could that be, Major?"

A small smile appeared on the Marine's face.

"You're going to help me to find Samuel Adams, John Hancock and your former colleagues."

Yuri stared carefully at the soldier.

"And why would I accept to help you to find my colleagues?"

"Because they are traitors. They have betrayed you, and because of them, General Gage doesn't trust you anymore. And we both know how violent he can be in his wrath."

Yuri flinched.

"Don't you want your revenge?" Pitcairn asked.

Yuri stared at him again, a merciless glint burning in his eyes.

After all, Pitcairn was right, she had betrayed him...

"Indeed, I would love revenge."


	22. Run And Love

**Here comes a new chapter, I hope you like it :)**

 **One scene was taken from the series in this one.**

 **I'll update again next week.**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this chapter, and this story in general.**

* * *

 **Run And Love**

"And you really think we can trust him, don't you, Major?"

Yuri struggled to swallow back the lump that was climbing up his throat. If he couldn't convince the General that he was useful, then he was a dead man. And the scientist knew it.

"We know the same amount of details about the same events than our former colleagues," the German argued. "We know the dates, the places of the main events that will shape the Colonists' rebellion."

"And you are going to give me these information because...?" Gage asked, his eyes of steel fixed upon Yuri's flinching glance.

"Because I have been betrayed," Yuri answered. "Sarah, Michael and John are not allies anymore. They are my enemies, as much as they are yours. I will help you find them."

"If...?"

"If you send my two friends and I back to where we come from. Or well... I should probably say _when_ we come from."

Gage stared at Yuri for a moment, their eyes motionless, both transfixed as they tried to read through the other's mind. Gage nodded shortly.

"Give me Hugo, Adams and Hancock, and I'll send you back to your time."

Gage took a glass of red wine upon his desk, and Yuri and Gage quickly imitated him.

"It sounds quite fair indeed," Gage said slowly, half-lost in thought. "You are three to go, and they are three cutthroats I want..."

He drank a gulp of wine, enjoying the feeling of alcohol slipping down his throat. All the time, he was staring at Yuri, his expression similar to a vulture before its prey. He let escape a little laugh, before speaking once more, a devilish glint alit in his eyes.

"A life for a life..."

* * *

"Are we going to talk about the fact that this is against all the decisions we have taken so far? That we are suddenly throwing away our 'don't change the past' lecture?"

"No, Michael. We're not."

"It is crazy though, and I hope you know it."

"I know."

"You can't marry someone from here, James."

"And yet that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"If she says yes."

"Thank you for your support."

Sarah glowered at Michael.

"Of course she's going to say yes," Sarah reassured her friend.

James hugged her. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't refrain his urge to hold her in his arms. She was his best friend, just like Michael was. She had always been there for him, and he knew she would never leave his side. They exchanged a smile.

"I'm happy for you, you know?" Michael said, running uncomfortably a hand in his hair.

"I know you are, Michael," James smiled. "I know you're only trying to protect your country."

"And you as well."

James hugged his friend too.

"Be careful," Michael admonished.

"Try not to blow up anything when I'm away," James replied.

"You know I wouldn't want you to miss all the fun."

They exchanged a smile, finally letting go.

"Good luck," Sarah encouraged him.

James nodded, jumping on his horse, and getting comfortable on his saddle. He followed Revere through the trees that surrounded the farm.

Michael heaved a deep sigh.

"Why do I feel like there's something bad coming for us?" he asked, though he was talking more to himself than to Sarah.

She looked up at him, worry shining in her eyes.

"I don't reckon that anything that is going to happen from now on is going to be good for us, Michael."

* * *

He walked inside the inn. It was dirty, and dusty, and dark... everything but a place where you would have liked to ask the woman you loved to marry you.

"Not the perfect place for what you're planning on doing, hey?" Revere told him, reading his mind.

"I must admit that I had hoped for something else. But it's already more than I could have had without your help, Paul."

"It's normal to be shaken, after what happened to you the other night," Revere reassured James, patting his shoulder. "Facing death... it's never an easy thing to do. It'll help you to get over it to see her, you'll see."

"Thank you, Paul."

"Anytime, James."

Revere left the inn, and James went sitting in a corner of the room, hiding his face with his hat and the collar of his long brown coat.

He didn't have long to wait to see the graceful silhouette of Mary Broadwood coming his way. He stared at her deep blue dress, and her blond curls...

"Good afternoon, James."

She sat down in the seat opposite him. James felt an idiotic grin creeping up his face, but there was nothing he could do to stop the ridiculous gesture to spread across his face.

"Hi. How was your trip?" he asked her.

"Good. Yours? What about...?"

She looked cautiously around her, before leaning over the table, whispering under her breath.

"What about the Red Coats?"

James smiled.

"Everyone is friendly to our cause here, it's okay. We're safe here."

"Why are you keeping your hat on then?"

James chuckled.

"You're right I guess. But I don't want to take any risk."

"Neither do I."

She reached for his hand across the table, and he did just the same. Their fingers met, collapsed, touched, caressed, before being intertwined, forming one inseparable form.

James could feel his heart pulsing under his ribs, beating frantically as he stared at her beautiful eyes.

Paul was right, it felt good to see her. He felt better already.

"Is everything alright in Boston? Are you safe?" he asked her, worry back on his face.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me."

He snorted.

"Of course I'm worried about you."

She shyly smiled.

"You're in a way more dangerous position than I am."

"You're working in Gage's house, I reckon it is a dangerous position."

"Mrs. Gage is very kind to me."

"Is she alright?"

Mary heaved a sigh, not daring to raise her voice, in case someone was listening.

"She and Dr. Warren are... very close friends."

James snorted wryly again.

"'Guess you can put it that way..."

"I'm worried about it," Mary went on, ignoring him. "What if General Gage finds out about them?"

James heaved a sigh, shrugging.

"I'm sure Joseph knows what he's doing."

Mary nodded.

James took a deep breath, gathering his courage. He had promised himself he would ask for her hand if he survived. Facing death had showed him what he would have regretted the most, and it was undoubtedly not having loved Mary the proper way. He held her hand a bit tighter.

"Actually, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about," he said slowly. "That's why I've asked you to come here."

"What is it?"

He looked once more around him. He watched the two drunk men on his left laughing madly.

It wasn't the right place at all...

"Would you mind if we talked about this outside?" he asked.

"Of course not."

They stood up, and walked out of the inn. James guided her next to the edge of the woods, their fingers still intertwined.

"What is it?" she asked him.

James took another deep breath, facing her and taking both her hands in his.

"We... we know each other quite well I reckon, don't we?" he asked softly.

"Yes, I guess we do, yes..." she answered slowly, wondering what was happening.

"I... We've been writing to each other for months now, very often."

The ghost of a smile formed on her lips.

"Yes, we have."

"Mary I... I'm not very good at this but..."

He cleared his throat, staring at her blue eyes.

"The other night... something happened..."

She narrowed slightly her eyes, though she let him pursue with his stuttering speech.

"We were... no, where we were or what we were doing is not important, let's just say that I..."

He sighed.

"I almost died."

Her eyes grew wide with terror.

"I wasn't hurt in the end, but for a moment, I really thought that I was going to die. And... you know, it might sound like a cliché but it's so true... I've seen all my life flying before my eyes, and all the things I would have liked to change, and all the bad decisions I've taken, and all the things I regret, all my mistakes, all these things I wish I could have done, but didn't... And through all this mess that has been my life, there was one thing I knew for sure. Only one thing I regretted more than anything in this world, only one regret that was tearing my soul apart, only one thing I would have sacrificed anything to have a chance to accomplish. There was only one thing that was giving me the will to fight to see another day on this earth."

His hands left hers and cupped her cheeks in a tender and gentle gesture that made her slightly gasp.

"It was you."

She looked at him with wide eyes, unable to speak.

"I know it's crazy. And I know I'm not from here, or well... I'm not from _now_. I know I'm poor. And I'm not the bravest man in Boston, and I'm far from perfect, and I'm such a moron most of the time and... I know nothing has happened between us. I mean, after all, we haven't even kissed but... It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter you're born more than two hundred years before me, it doesn't matter that I might be changing history right now, it doesn't matter... nothing matters except this. Except us... Except the fact that I love you with all my heart and I know it will never change, no matter what the future has in store for us. So..."

He knelt down to the ground, taking one of her hands in his again, whilst she was covering her mouth with her fingers with shock.

"Mary Broadwood, would you make me the luckiest man in the world, the present and the future one? Would you marry me?"

But no word could pass her lips.

"I should have had a ring, I know," James said, trying to fill up the heavy silence that had surrounded them both. "But I don't have money. And I don't reckon you would have liked a ring made from bullets, would you?"

He cleared his throat.

"Could you say something? Anything? Because I'm drowning down there, as you can see."

He heaved a sigh.

"I..."

But before he could add another word, Mary was bending down and pressing her lips to his.

And without a doubt, it was the best kiss of his life.

"Is that a 'yes'?" he breathed as he finally stood up, keeping his brow resting upon hers, their eyes closed.

She grinned.

"Yes, James. I do want to marry you."

* * *

"Okay... Everyone goes away! I don't want to see anyone near this field!"

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"No, that's why I'm asking everybody to go away."

"It's not stable enough, Sarah."

"Well, it's going to blow more efficiently, that's all."

Michael rolled his eyes.

"You're ridiculous."

"Not that much," the French woman answered.

She walked out of the barn, checking that everyone was reaching the house.

"I'll try it, just tell me what I should do," Sam told her.

"No, let me work," she replied.

"But..."

"No, there's no 'but'. I'm the scientist here. So go away, out of the field."

Sam heaved a sigh, defeated, and walked away.

Sarah turned towards Michael.

"Alright, let's try it."

She picked up a very little phial, and filled it up with nitro-glycerine.

"It's not a good idea. The product is too instable..." Michael mumbled for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

"Stop being pessimistic," she commanded.

And before he could protest again, she had thrown the phial away in the middle of field.

The strength of the explosion surprised everyone, and for a moment, there was nothing but flying dirt, and flames, and smoke...

Sam quickly came back to his senses, and without thinking, he ran towards the barn, calling for Sarah, his heart pounding in his ears.

He found her coughing, but unhurt.

"We're fine," she reassured him.

"Was it supposed to be so powerful?" Sam asked them.

He strode into the barn, and came back with some water to ease Sarah's painful throat.

"I'll prepare samples with much less nitro-glycerine," Sarah told him.

"We need to hide them somewhere they'll be safe. We can't take the risk that someone finds one and blows up the house," Michael added.

"I'll talk to Barrett," Sam nodded.

"We'd better get to work," Sarah told Michael.

Right then, Revere and James were coming back to the house.

"What happened?" asked Revere, staring at the hole in the ground where Sarah had thrown the phial of explosive liquid.

"I guess our nitro-glycerine is working alright," James said.

"Indeed. It's even working a bit too well," Sarah answered.

"You'd better teach us how to use it," Sam told her.

She nodded, but kept staring at James.

"Why are you grinning like a moron?" she asked her friend.

James walked closer to his friends, a wide grin still illuminating his face.

"I've got a wonderful news, guys!"

Sarah grinned as well, understanding what all this was about.

"She said yes?" she asked.

James nodded frantically, and the next second, Sarah was hugging him tightly, crying in his ear.

"OH MON DIEU!"

"I think I'm deaf," James laughed, hugging her tight as well.

He looked up at Michael, a worried expression slowly replacing his bliss.

But Michael was merely smiling, clearly touched, tears shining in his eyes.

Sarah finally let go of her friend.

"Congratulations," Michael breathed, before hugging his best friend as well.

"You're not mad at me?" James asked, frowning slightly.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm happy for you."

James grinned again, laughing with Michael and Sarah.

Sam cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't understand..."

James turned towards him.

"I'm getting married."

Sam propped an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm getting married, Sam," James repeated.

"To the girl working for Gage's wife?"

"Yes, to Mary."

Sam blinked.

"Are you certain that it's the wisest thing to do...?"

"Sam," Sarah interrupted him.

"I'm merely asking a question."

"Yes, Sam. I'm sure it is the right thing to do," James said. "I trust her. I love her. And I'm going to marry her."

"What will you do if you find a way to get back to your time?"

"We're not going back, Sam," James answered earnestly. "But it doesn't mean we can't have a life."

Sam nodded slowly.

"I'm happy for you," he said, and a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Thank you."

"When are you planning on getting married?"

James grinned once more.

"As soon as we can."

* * *

"You disapprove, don't you?"

Sam turned around, facing Sarah, who was walking into the room.

"I'm not sure it's the safest thing to do," he admitted.

"James knows what he's doing."

"I have no doubt he feels like he's doing the right thing."

"But?"

"But I thought you were not supposed to interfere with History?"

"We've stopped acting as if we could escape a long time ago, Sam. We're not going home, there's no use in denying the truth. We have already changed History, I'm sure. James deserves to be happy."

"You all deserve to be happy, that's not what I meant."

"I know it's not what you meant. But we must be realistic: we have changed the past, and we will change the past again. James marrying Mary or not will not change much things. Besides, I've never heard of her in history books."

Sam nodded slowly, turning in his hand the apple he was holding.

"Do you think we can trust her?" he asked.

"If James says that she's loyal to Gage's wife, and not to Gage, then we can trust him. We _must_ trust him."

"She's working in his house."

"It doesn't mean she thinks that what Gage and his men are doing to Boston is right. Besides, you're forgetting how strong love can be."

"Trust me, I couldn't forget..."

They stared at each other for while, standing motionless in the barn. Sam lost his soul in her blue glance, and time seemed to have been caught inside his dark eyes as Sarah couldn't look away...

Suddenly, Revere walked in. He joined his friends, who finally stopped staring at each other and looked outside by the window instead.

"How are you, Paul?" Sarah asked him, struggling to keep her voice steady despite how fast her heart was beating.

"Fine. James is overexcited. He wants to get married tomorrow. I've called for a friend of mine, a priest. He should do the job just fine."

"Thank you."

"Well... it's not like we can celebrate much these days anyway. We can't miss the opportunity I guess."

Sarah and Paul exchanged a smile, before Revere would turn towards Sam. He crossed his arms upon his chest.

" _All I heard in Boston is that Gage is coming for you,_ " Revere told his friend. " _He catches you, you're hanged._ "

" _Even if he catches me, that's one thing but... If he finds all this..._ " Sam answered, nodding towards the weapons aligned on the shelves behind them.

"You can't be caught, Sam," Sarah told him. "You just can't."

Sam bit into his fruit, but he found it hard to swallow his mouthful of apple.

" _Very well..._ " Revere said slowly. " _I know a house down the road to Lexington. You could hide out there till we come up with a plan._ "

" _Good,_ " Sam nodded.

He couldn't help but notice Sarah's jaws clenching at the sound of the word 'Lexington'. He was about to ask her why she was reacting this way when Paul nodded towards the field beyond the window.

" _What about him?_ " he asked.

" _Him who?_ " Sam asked, following Paul's gaze outside.

" _Hancock_."

Sam looked at the businessman outside. He was leaning against the doorframe of Barrett's house, looking at the men training at shooting.

" _What about Hancock?_ " Sam asked Paul.

" _Gage knows that he's paying for all this. He's a fugitive too._ "

Sam looked at Hancock again.

" _Then I suppose he's coming with me, isn't he?_ " Sam said, a small smile on his lips. " _One week. I'll tell him._ "

Revere nodded.

" _I might... leave out the part about the hanging,_ " Sam proposed.

" _'Might be a good idea,_ " Revere smiled. "But you shouldn't go just the two of you."

He turned towards Sarah.

"Gage is looking for you as well, more than ever. You're to be shot on sight. You have to disappear, at least for a week."

"You'll come with us," Sam said, and judging by his tone, he could not accept any argument.

Sarah merely nodded.

"I guess we should go as well to Lexington, you're right."

"I'll try to get everything ready in Boston. I've already organized a signal with a few friends. If Red Coats are coming for us, we will know it, and we will also know which road they are taking."

"Perfect, well done, Paul," Sam nodded.

"I'll go check the ammunitions with Kelly."

Paul walked out of the barn again, leaving Sam and Sarah alone. The scientist started towards the door as well, but Sam stopped her.

"Is everything alright?" Sam asked her.

"Of course."

But her voice was shaking, and Sam was not fooled.

"What is it? Is it about Lexington? Is something supposed to happen?"

"Sam..."

"You know you can trust me."

"Of course, that's not the point."

"What is it then?"

"I..."

She shook her head.

"It's nothing. I'm just very tired. I have to see James, he's going to need me for the wedding."

Sam nodded slowly, watching her leaving the barn.

He knew she was lying.

* * *

"Sam and Hancock are leaving for Lexington."

Michael and James immediately froze.

"Well, it was predictable," Michael mumbled.

"What do we do?" Sarah asked her friends.

"We can't prevent them from going there."

"Michael, there are going to be so many dead..."

"Not that much."

"One would already be too much."

Michael walked towards her, resting his palms upon her shoulders in a soothing gesture.

"We don't have a choice. Lexington is an important part of History."

She heaved a deep sigh.

"I know, but..."

"There's no 'but'. We must let them go there."

"What if Yuri talks to Gage?" James asked.

"Gage will learn the truth in a matter of days now anyway."

"What if he tells Gage about Concord?"

Michael shrugged.

"Again, they will be found in a matter of days anyway."

"They want us to go there as well. Sam and Paul think we'll be safer there."

"We shouldn't all go there. Some of us should stay here, and protect the weapons."

"We can't split up," James protested. "We must stay together."

"We must protect all of them," Michael replied.

Sarah nodded.

"I'll go to Lexington with Sam and John," she stated. "You'll take care of Paul and the others."

"Are you sure?" James asked her, a look of fear glimmering in his blue eyes.

"I'm sure, James," she nodded. "I'll go to Lexington."

* * *

The very evening, right after sunset, when darkness had covered the world again, and the shy moon had just started to light up the sky, Sam and Hancock were already about to depart for Lexington. They had packed up a few things, and were getting ready, preparing their horses.

They had already bidden farewell to all their friends. All, except Sarah.

Sam was the first to be ready, guiding his horse throughout the fields and to the road. As the moon had not risen yet, all was dark around him, and he could barely see where he was going. At least, he wouldn't have too much to fear from the Red Coats...

"Sam."

He turned around, facing Sarah, who was walking towards him with a lantern in her hand.

"Were you really trying to elope?" she asked, an amused smile on her face.

He smiled back at her.

"You were busy, that's all."

She grew worried all of a sudden.

"You'll be careful, right?" she admonished.

"Of course," he nodded, amused.

"I'm not kidding. Please, Sam, you must be careful. And whatever happens, you must save yourself, and take care of Hancock."

Sam intensely stared at her.

"Sarah, you're hiding something from me."

She heaved a sigh.

"Sam, please... not again. Not now."

And before he could protest, she had wrapped her arms around his neck, and was pressing him against her.

"Be careful," she repeated once more.

"I will. I promise."

He knew she was holding her too tightly, too long... But her warmth flowed through his body, and her scent of strawberries and sunshine made his head spin, and the feeling of her graceful body against him was such a sweet form of torture, and his hand in her silky hair...

He couldn't find the strength to let go of her. He wished he could spend all his life just holding her against him as he was doing at this moment. He wished he could stop time from flying by. He wished he didn't have to go, or that she would come with him. His heart was painful at the idea of leaving her behind, even if it was just for one day. He had grown used to see her in the morning preparing breakfast with Barrett, and walking through the fields with her dark hair bathed in sunshine, and her graceful walk... He was used to wish her goodnight and looking at her as she climbed up the stairs to her bedroom. He was used to see her all day long.

He didn't want to leave her, not even for just one day. One day was already too much time lost in her company...

"Take care of John," she said.

"Sarah, you'll join us tomorrow night anyway. And everything will be just fine. I promise."

Sarah nodded against his shoulder, before finally pulling away.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she said.

"'See you tomorrow."

And he walked further down the road, advancing slowly through the shadows so that Hancock could join him when he was ready. And soon indeed, the businessman was guiding his horse to the road.

"Be careful on the road," Sarah told her friend.

"We'll be careful, don't worry," John reassured her.

"John..."

She looked nervous all of a sudden, and Hancock furrowed his brow before her expression.

"Could you do something for me?" she asked.

"Of course."

She gave him an envelope, upon which Sam's name was written.

"Just... if something happens to me... give this to Sam, would you?"

"Sarah, nothing will happen to you. You'll come tomorrow, and you'll be safe in Lexington."

"Yes but... With Gage looking for us and Yuri and... Please just... take this and promise me you'll give it to Sam if something happens to me. Please John."

Hancock nodded, taking the envelope and putting it safely in his pocket.

"You need to promise me something else, John," she added.

She rested her hands on his upper arms, staring intensely at him, and under the light of the stars, her eyes were shining like the surface of a calm sea painted with moonlight.

"You must promise me that whatever may happen, you will make sure that Sam and you live."

Hancock didn't answer, and so the scientist went on.

"Whatever may happen, to any of us, you must protect Sam. You and Sam are the most important symbols of this rebellion, without the two of you, it all stops. Whatever happens, you must run away with him, and do whatever is necessary to save him, and to save yourself. Please John..."

He nodded slowly.

"You speak as if something terrible was about to happen," he breathed.

She heaved a sigh.

"I don't know, John... With Gage and everything..." she answered elusively.

He nodded again, and he didn't insist. She hugged him tightly, before he would walk away, joining Sam on the road.

"You're alright?" Sam asked John as he saw the worried expression on the merchant's face.

"Of course, I'm perfectly fine," John reassured him.

"Don't worry, I don't think we have much to fear from the Red Coats tonight. If we're careful, we'll arrive safely to Lexington."

John nodded, resting his hand against his pocket upon his heart.

He could feel the shape of the envelope through the fabric of his coat.


	23. One If By Land, Two If By Sea

**Here's a new chapter! Hope you didn't have to wait for too long, it took me a bit longer than usual.**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series.**

 **The little story about Sam and his wife comes only from my imagination, don't try to see any historical fact nor anything told in the series.**

 **I'll update again next Sunday.**

 **Hope you like this chapter. Please, tell me what you think about it. Leave me a review ;)**

* * *

 **One If By Land, Two If By Sea**

James was grinning. It had been months since Sarah hadn't seen him with such a joyful expression on his face. She made her way throughout the little army that had gathered around the barn, trying to reach her friend who was standing in the middle of the barn, waiting for his wedding to begin.

"Is that normal to feel so nervous?" he asked Sarah as she was taking her place by his side.

"Yes, it is normal," she answered, a reassuring smile upon her face. "You should see Mary, she's overexcited!"

"It think I'm going to throw up..."

" _That_ would be a sexy way to begin your marriage," Michael said, patting his friend's shoulder. "I'm sure Mary would remember forever the vision of her husband throwing up before the priest..."

"You really have to get better at comforting people," James replied wryly.

"But it would be less fun..."

Suddenly, a whisper was shaking the barn.

"She's coming!" Revere warned his friends, and the next second, he was sitting at the front row, next to Kelly and Warren.

James smiled at the sight of the doctor's wet eyes.

And then an old man in the back started to play the piano, and Mary walked into the barn, Barrett accompanying her.

And the next second, she was before James; and he was grinning like an idiot, not that he would have cared anyway as he couldn't think straight anymore; and the priest spoke; and then James said yes; and he heard Mary saying yes as well, the best word in the world, without a doubt; and then a ring was passed around his finger; and he passed a ring around her finger as well; and the priest talked again; and then, he didn't know how, James kissed her, and suddenly everyone was cheering...

He was married.

* * *

The chilly air made shivers run up her arms. She looked up at the sky. Though the sun was shining bright, April kept the wind cold upon her skin. She absentmindedly rubbed her upper arms to get warmer.

"So... you actually _can_ wear a dress."

Michael leaned against the wall of the house, and Sarah merely rolled her eyes in response. He took a gulp of red wine, looking cautiously at her.

"That's a nice dress, by the way," he said.

"Thanks."

"I know someone who would be happy to see you in it..."

She frowned hard. Clearly, she wasn't understanding what he meant, and Michael immediately regretted his remark. Obviously, She was completely ignorant about Sam's feelings for her...

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Nothing..." Michael merely mumbled.

But before she could insist, James was walking outside the house as well.

"Aren't you supposed to be snogging your wife?" Michael asked his friend, a merry expression back on his face.

"You're always so romantic..." James rolled his eyes.

"How is she?" Sarah asked him.

James grinned.

"Happy, perfect... what can I say?"

Sarah heaved a sigh.

"I guess I should be on my way. I don't want to spend too much time on the road at night. I'll go look for Kelly."

"Be careful," James admonished.

"You too. Take care of this idiot for me," she added, nodding towards Michael.

"Hey!" the American protested.

They both laughed in response.

"If history happens..." James said slowly.

"I know James," Sarah breathed. "There's no need to remind me."

"You shouldn't be going there," Michael shook his head.

"I prefer to be there than here. And you won't be safer here than I will be at Lexington..."

"Sarah..."

"I want to be there, I want to be there with them. One of us has to go with Sam and John, to protect them."

"But..."

"I've taken my decision."

She rested her palm upon Michael's shoulder.

"Please, Michael. Let me do this. I know about the risks I'm taking. And I'm more than ready to take them."

He nodded slowly, giving up. She patted his shoulder, before turning towards James again.

"I'm glad for you, you know?"

"Of course I know," he nodded. "And I'd like to thank you... both of you. You've always been there for me."

Michael patted his shoulder.

" _'One for all..._ '"

The two men held Sarah tightly against them. And as she was pressed against their two strong chests, she couldn't refrain a smile.

"'... _Et tous pour un.'_ "

* * *

 _Lexington, Massachusetts_

 _14 miles outside of Boston._

Hancock was pacing relentlessly. He couldn't understand how Sam could manage to be so calm, sitting there by the fire, rocking his chair absentmindedly. He had detected a few signs of worry on his friend's face though, but nothing that could be compared to the anxiety that was devouring his heart. But then, he was quite right to be nervous, he reckoned: Gage wanted to catch both Sam and him, his entire army was looking for them and God only knew what Gage would do to them if they were caught, and as if it wasn't enough, Sarah was now travelling with only a few minutemen as an escort through the night when Red Coats were patrolling the roads...

It was way too much for him to bare...

He remembered the words Sarah had whispered when she had almost left this world. She had told him that he was stronger than he thought he was. He hoped she was right...

"Hancock, could you stop your pacing, please?" Sam asked, his eyes still fixed upon the dancing flames burning in the hearth.

The businessman froze.

"You're making me nervous," Sam went on.

"I have to admit that I don't understand how you can be so calm right now, Sam," Hancock answered. "Aren't you afraid? At least for Sarah?"

He distinguished in the dim light Sam's jaws clenching.

"Of course I'm worried," Sam answered slowly, still looking away from John. "But Kelly is with her, she'll be just fine."

Hancock intensely stared at him.

"Do you really believe in that?"

Sam shrugged.

"There's nothing we can do anyway."

"But it doesn't make you crazy to know that she's outside, risking her life...?"

"Hancock, stop it," Sam interrupted him.

His voice was low and soft. Hancock fell silent, waiting for Sam to go on.

"Trust me, I _am_ worried," he said slowly, his voice soft, barely audible above the sound of the cracking blazes in the hearth. "But there is no use in... imagining the worst things that could happen to her. We can't get outside the house, we would merely risk the lives of all the people who are helping us to hide here, we would risk everything. Kelly is with her, he will take care of her. She'll soon be here, you'll see."

Hancock didn't answer. He could hear in Sam's voice that his friend didn't believe in his own words, but it was useless to keep talking about all this. After all, like almost everyone else, Hancock had guessed a long time ago Sam's feelings for the scientist, and he knew that the scary stories Sam had advised him not to think about were in reality filling up his mind, like torturous ideas that kept hurting him again and again...

So the businessman cleared his throat, sitting on a chair, deciding it was time to change the subject of their conversation.

" _Did you know I was at the coronation of King George?_ " Hancock asked bluntly.

Sam looked up at him.

" _'Can't be serious..._ " he smiled slowly.

" _I was,_ " Hancock assured him. " _I was... twenty-four years old. And... my uncle sent me over to England to hmm... to cultivate relationships with merchants. And old George was properly crowned and as a prominent member of the Colonies, I was invited._ "

He closed his eyes, remembering the scene that had played before his eyes such a long time ago. His hands drawn in mid-air the forms of the objects he could see appearing upon his close eyelids whilst his mind was recreating that day.

" _Just... so much gold, Sam,_ " Hancock breathed. " _Just gold, everything's... And the clothes were exquisite and the ceremony, my... The sheer opulence was staggering. But..._ "

He started to snicker.

" _Some poor lad... he had forgotten the Royal Canopy. So the King and Queen were just baking in the sun. It was absolutely hilarious! I mean, of course... nobody dared raise a smile..._ "

Hancock stopped for a few seconds, but he suddenly realized that he couldn't stop talking. He had wanted to distract his friend from his worry and his sorrow, but in fact, it was his own sorrow he was facing now. He had summoned his own demons, without realizing what he was doing before it was already too late to take back the words that had passed his lips, and he felt that the only way to ease his pain now was to let everything out. And so he kept talking, the dancing flames still burning, though Sam had since long stopped to look at the hearth to focus on Hancock.

John could feel tears starting to wet his eyes, slowly blurring his vision.

" _My uncle was so_ proud _of me,_ " he went on with a shaking voice. " _He was so proud I was there. He bragged about me, Sam. He bragged about me every chance he got. Just imagine if he could see... me now..._ "

After a long silence, Hancock finally looked again at Sam, staring at him right in the eyes.

" _Aren't you afraid?_ " he asked him. "Aren't you afraid of what Gage could do to us if we were caught? Of what could happen to the two of us if his men found us here?"

" _No_ ," Sam merely answered.

" _You're not? You're not afraid to die?_ "

A small smile appeared on Sam's face.

" _No, you see... It's been years since I've felt this alive._ "

" _You really are a crazy rebel bastard,_ " Hancock replied, a nervous smile on his face, standing up, " _aren't you?_ "

" _I'm not afraid of dying. It's far worse for those left behind._ "

Sam stopped rocking his chair, and the two men remained motionless for a while. Hancock finally nodded, humming in agreement.

" _That it is, Sam... that it is..._ "

They both turned towards the door as the sound of hooves echoing upon the road was shaking the house. Sam stood up, and as one man, they both advanced towards the window, taking a look at the street drenched with shadows.

There were four houses stopped before the house.

Sam's heart skipped a beat as he distinguished at the light of the shy stars the form of a dress as one of the riders was jumping to the ground.

He strode to the door, and opened it wide, just as Kelly was about to knock on the door.

"'Evening," the Irishman smiled, walking into the house.

"Good evening, Kelly," Hancock welcomed him, shaking his hand.

"Any trouble on the road?" Sam asked, shaking Kelly's hand as well.

"None," Kelly shook his head. "Everything went just fine."

"Good."

Sarah finally entered the house.

"You're not too weary, are you?" Hancock inquired, helping her carry her bag inside the room.

"I'm fine, John," Sarah smiled. "It's good to see you."

Sam took her coat and put it on a chair.

"Do you want something to drink? Or to eat?" Hancock asked. "We don't have much here, I'm afraid. But then, we're used to it by now..."

"Just a bit of water will be perfect, thank you, John."

Hancock disappeared in the kitchen to fetch some water. As Kelly walked out of the house to take care of the horses and give orders to his men, Sam and Sarah found themselves alone in the living room.

"You should sit down, you must be tired," Sam told her, offering her a chair.

"I'm fine, Sam. It's good to be standing actually, after my long ride..."

She walked closer to the hearth, warming her hands by the fire.

"How was the wedding?" Sam asked her.

"It went well, very well indeed," Sarah smiled. "James is on a little cloud. And Mary is as happy as he is..."

"I wish I could have been there too."

"It was too dangerous, Sam."

Sam saw her shivering, and he covered her shoulders with her coat again, and he kept his hands resting on her upper arms.

"Why did James and Michael didn't come as well?" he asked bluntly.

She turned around to face him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, frowning slightly.

"Why are you the only one coming here? You've always remained together, since the very first day you stepped out of this bridge... and now that the situation is more dangerous than ever, you decide to take separate ways? It doesn't seem very logical to me."

Sarah stared at his deep dark eyes for a long while, motionless.

"We didn't think," she answered, speaking slowly and choosing her words carefully, "that it was a good idea to let any of you on your own. Just in case..."

Sam held her arms a bit tighter in his hands, but his hold was gentle and tender still.

"Are we in danger?" he asked her, his tone urgent. "Is something supposed to happen?"

"Sam..."

"Shall we get prepared?"

"Sam..."

She heaved a sigh.

"We're just scared Yuri could change history..."

But he was not fooled.

"I know you're hiding something from me..."

"Sam, nothing is sure anymore. We've changed things already. We're just scared it could play against us, that's all."

"You would tell me, wouldn't you? If there was something about to happen? Something bad for us."

"This is a very relative notion, Sam. Good and bad..."

She looked intensely at Sam, and she could feel his hold on her arms tightening again. But it was still so gentle, her heart was beating incredibly fast.

"Some things must happen, even if on the moment, they will be bad... in the end, they will serve our cause. And I won't prevent all of them to happen."

He nodded slowly.

"I see."

Her gaze upon him became softer.

"Are you angry?"

He smiled reassuringly.

"No, I'm not angry. I think I understand now... or well, partly at least."

She smiled, and right at this moment, Hancock came back with a glass of water. Sam immediately let go of her, and their gazes separated.

Sarah drank up quickly, and headed for the stairs.

"I think I'll go to sleep now. I'm tired."

But before she could bend down to pick up her bag, Sam was carrying it.

"I've got it."

She didn't protest, and climbed up the stairs. Sam guided her to her room. He suddenly took her hand in his, preventing her from walking into the bedroom.

"Sarah, you must promise me something," he said slowly.

His low and warm voice made her heart skip a beat.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Promise me you'll protect yourself."

"Sam..."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are. But I can't promise you that."

She shook her head.

"My life is not important..."

"It's not the first conversation of this kind we have..."

"And my answer will always be the same."

"I would never forgive myself."

She looked up at him.

"If you were hurt, I would never forgive myself," he repeated.

She held his fingers a bit more tightly. He shook his head.

"I've lost enough in my life..."

"I know, Sam. But it's very different."

"It's not that different."

They stared at each other for a while, motionless, standing there, in the corridor, still holding each other's hand.

It was the perfect occasion. He could have told her. He could have told her how he felt, how much he cared about her, that he could never live without her, that if something was to happen to her, he could never survive, that...

But there was this ray of moonlight bathing her black hair, and this dress holding perfectly her body, and the depth of her blue eyes and...

She was from the future, and he was from the past.

And Sam realized that he would never deserve her love.

All this time, he had refrained his feelings to protect her, because she was supposed to go... or at least, that's what he had repeated to himself all this time. But the truth was striking him now that he was watching her graceful figure bathed in moonlight, her fierce, smart glance shining in the darkness of the night.

She would never love a man like him.

How could she? He was just a drunk, who was fighting for a cause that he believed was fair, yes, but if he was fighting, it was because he had nothing left to lose...

Nothing, except her.

But he had never had her heart anyway. And he knew for sure now, she would never feel the same. He didn't deserve her love...

And he felt his heart breaking in his chest.

"It's late, you should rest now," he breathed, letting go of her hand.

She nodded slowly.

"You're right..."

He took a step back, but their stares didn't flinch. She took her bag from him.

"Good night, Sam," she said, but didn't move from the threshold.

She narrowed her eyes.

"Is there something wrong?"

Sam frowned.

"Why?"

She shrugged.

"You're staring at me in a strange way."

He hated himself for blushing.

"Perhaps it's simply unusual to see you in a dress," he answered, a small smile forming on his lips.

It was her time to blush.

"Well, don't worry, things will be back to normal tomorrow."

His smile widened.

"But it is true then... you're blushing."

She looked up at him defiantly, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"Well, hardly, in fact. I don't reckon it was a compliment."

She turned around, but froze at the sound of his voice, that sounded serious again.

"You do look beautiful in this dress, though..."

He didn't know what had gotten into him, but suddenly, he couldn't control the words that passed his lips. It was as if his heart was directly connected to his tongue...

"...But then, you're always beautiful, Sarah."

She turned around, breathless...

But Sam was already gone.

* * *

Everyone had left the house, even Barrett, just for one night. They were not far though, most of the men were sleeping in the barn. Still, James thought it was very kind of them indeed, to give him and Mary some privacy. She held his hand in hers, resting her head against his shoulder as they watched the dancing flame cracking into the hearth.

"You're never going to leave, are you?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible in the night.

He kissed her hair.

"I'll have to go to Boston tomorrow," he whispered. "I'll take you back there. But then, I must come back here."

"That's not what I meant."

She looked up at him.

"You will not leave me here, and go back to your world, will you?"

He smiled reassuringly.

"Of course I won't."

"I love you, James."

He couldn't control the grin that formed on his lips.

"I love you too, Mary. And I promise you, I'm not going to leave."

He rested his brow against hers, and they both closed their eyes.

"My life is here now, with you. I'm not going anywhere."

Before he could add anything, she was kissing his lips.

When they finally broke away from their deep, tender kiss, they were both left breathless.

"I wish you didn't have to go back to Boston. It's too dangerous," James sighed.

"I can't leave Mrs. Gage behind. She needs me by her side. I'm her only ally in this house."

James nodded, before taking something out of his pocket.

"I've asked Michael to make this for you."

He gave her a little box, made of metal.

"What is it?" she asked him, turning it between her fingers.

"If you push on the little button right here..."

He picked another similar box out of his pocket.

"...It will light up a little light on this. Come on, try it."

Mary did as instructed, and a red light shined on James's box. He took her face in his hands.

"If you're in danger or if something goes wrong in Boston and you need help, you just have to use this to call for me. I'll be there in no time. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Thank you," she smiled.

He crushed their lips together once more, in a kiss that left them even more desperate for air than before.

"We should go to sleep now," she whispered, caressing his cheek.

He nodded, standing up, and holding her hand as they climbed up the stairs.

"I've prepared you this room, if you want," James said slowly. "My bedroom is next door, if you need anything."

She smiled, blushing hard. She squeezed his fingers between hers.

"We're husband and wife now. We don't need two bedrooms."

James stopped breathing.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She smiled tenderly at him.

"You're so kind to me," she breathed, not even realizing that she was speaking her thoughts out loud.

"It's alright, if you need more time."

"I don't need more time."

He took a step closer to her, cupping her cheek in his palm, and she took a sharp intake of breath as his fingers ran through her hair. In the dim light of the candle that he held in his other hand, James couldn't help but fall hypnotized by her red lips. He wanted so much to kiss her...

"I love you, Mary."

And then, their lips collided, and were sealed for a long time...

* * *

Sam woke up in a sweat. He had had the same nightmare again...

Panting, he stood up and headed downstairs as he knew he would never be able to sleep again that night anyway. But there was a light alit in the living room, and he found Sarah, wrapped in a blanket, sitting in a chair, reading a book. He recognized one of the books Franklin had lent her. She looked up at him when she finally noticed his presence.

"You can't sleep either, I see," Sam smiled.

She heaved a sigh.

"I couldn't just lay there, staring at the ceiling anymore."

He nodded.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked her.

"No, thank you."

He came back a few minutes later with a glass of water, and a chessboard.

"Do you play?" he asked her.

She closed her book, putting it down on the table.

"I love chess," she smiled.

"Why am I not surprised?" he asked, a small smile forming slowly on his lips.

She chuckled.

"I'm actually good at it," she said proudly.

"I have no doubt you are. But I won't let you win."

"I'm not expecting anything less from you."

They exchanged a smile, and they carried the table closer to the mantelpiece to get warmer.

"My wife and I used to play," Sam said slowly after a while.

Sarah looked up carefully at him.

"You don't talk much about her," she said slowly.

"Some wounds cannot heal, I guess..."

"How did you meet?"

A smile played on his lips.

"We were young, and a bit stupid..."

He moved his pawn on the chessboard, before speaking again.

"John... I mean my cousin, obviously, not Hancock... was crazy about that girl downtown... I guess he was right to be so, she's his wife now. But anyway, her best friend accompanied her one afternoon to one of Abigail's and John's rendezvous, and of course I went with John, because he was completely panicked... And a few month later, Elisabeth and I were married."

She took one of his knights.

"That's cute," she smiled.

Sam smiled as well.

"It took longer for Abigail and John. Because after all, John is so... careful, and organized, and prudent... Everything I'm not. He wanted to have a situation, he wanted to be able to buy her a house and all the calm life that went with it. But I was just a naive, impulsive young man by then."

"I like the idea of meeting someone, and knowing right away that you want to spend the rest of your life with him... or her."

"Yeah, it was good to live this way... Not caring about money nor anything, as long as we were together."

Sarah smiled again, and Sam stared at her for a while.

"What about you? Have you ever felt this way? Like nothing mattered except the two of you?"

Sarah felt her throat tightening.

"Once," she breathed, moving her queen on the chessboard.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

She shrugged.

"Impossible love. For a lot of reasons."

"What reasons?"

"I guess we were just... not meant to be together."

Every word felt like a cold dagger piercing her heart.

"We couldn't be together, even if he had wanted us to be. And anyway, I think he had another woman in his mind."

Sam nodded slowly.

"I see."

But she shook her head, a sad smile curving up her lips.

"No, Sam. Trust me, you don't ' _see_ '."

She moved her queen again, a smile on her face.

"Checkmate!"

Sam sighed.

"I'm sure you made me talk just to distract me," he teased her.

"Hey! That's a game of strategy after all."

"You're right. Next time, I'll be more careful."

"No, don't be! Or else I might not win next time."

They both chuckled, trying not to be too loud as their friends were asleep upstairs.

She heaved a sigh, and rested her head on her arms that were crossed on the table. She closed her eyes.

"Would you like to go back to bed?" he asked her softly.

But she shook her head.

"I guess I should leave you rest, then," he said.

But before he could stand up, she had taken his hand.

"No, please," she breathed. "Stay."

Sam froze.

"Just a bit longer," she pleaded.

He nodded, getting more comfortable in his chair.

Slowly, their fingers were enlaced together.

Sam remained sitting on his chair, looking at her, deciding that he would stay until she had fallen asleep. So he remained motionless there, staring at her long eyelashes bathed in the dim golden light of the fire, and the reflection of the flames on her lips and her hair...

But he didn't realize his own tiredness, and soon, he had drifted off to sleep as well. And they remained there, sleeping in the living room, their fingers intertwined.

Sam didn't have any other nightmare that night.

* * *

"So? What happened?"

Mary smiled at Mrs. Gage.

"Nothing, Mrs. Gage."

"Oh, come on Mary! Tell me!"

The two women sat on Margaret's bed.

"Well, it's done," Mary said, a dreamy smile on her face.

Margaret took her in her arms.

"Oh, Mary! I'm so happy for you! But when will you finally tell me who it is?"

"I don't want you to have any trouble with General Gage," Mary shook her head. "It's hard enough for you already. At least, if he asks you anything about me, you won't have to lie for me."

"Well, whoever it is, he is a very lucky man."

Mary heaved a dreamy sigh.

"I think I'm pretty lucky myself, in fact."

"Have you seen Joseph when you were with the rebels?"

"Yes, he's perfectly fine. He and Mr. Revere accompanied me and my husband back to Boston."

"I'm glad to hear it. So, he's back in town then?"

"I reckon he is back to his house, indeed."

"That's good to know. We're going to need allies today."

Even if they had already been whispering, Margaret spoke in a voice even lower than before, leaning further towards her maid.

"I've heard my husband is going to meet his officers in less than an hour now. Be ready to get out of the house. I'll try to learn more about their plans."

"It's very dangerous..." Mary protested.

But Margaret shook her head.

"I can't remain idle. This is the least I can do. Who knows, we might learn something useful."

She rose from her bed.

"Be ready when I come back, Mary."

"Yes, Mrs. Gage."

The General's wife nodded, and walked out of the room.

" _The farm is here. Outside of Concord._ "

Margaret approached a bit closer to the door, listening closely to the conversation that was going on in her husband's office. She could recognize the man who was speaking, he was one of Gage's spies. She believed his name was Whittier, or something of the kind... The Major Pitcairn was there too, smoking a pipe, along with her husband, of course, and Yuri Einbrecher. Whittier seemed to be pointing at something upon the General's desk. Margaret guessed that it ought to be a map.

" _How many were there?_ " Pitcairn asked, breathing out a little cloud of blue smoke.

" _Hundreds,_ " answered the spy, turning towards Gage. " _You must understand, they were an army. Prepared and ready._ "

"I told you they would be there," Yuri smiled.

Gage chose to ignore the scientist's remark, and turned towards Whittier instead.

" _And you actually witnessed Samuel Adams and John Hancock leading this... army?_ "

" _Yes, Sir._ "

He turned absentmindedly towards his mantelpiece, and when he spoke again, it sounded more like he was talking to himself than to the men in his office.

" _Found them, good... I want to see them both hanged._ "

He turned towards Whittier once more, his cruel smile still on his lips.

"What about the scientists?"

"They were there too. Along with weapons, I reckon. _Militias walk in empty handed, and leave with rifles in their hands._ "

" _Ammunitions store_ ," Pitcairn breathed.

" _I have followed Adams and Hancock about six miles East to Lexington._ "

" _You can assure me you remained undetected?_ " asked Gage.

" _Yes, Sir,_ " the spy nodded.

Gage turned to Pitcairn.

" _Take your men first to Lexington. Once you have Adams and Hancock arrested, continue to Concord, and destroy everything there._ The scientists are to be captured or killed, but they must not escape. Bring them alive if you can, I'm sure we will find them useful. _And the Colonists harboring soldiers or weapons are to be shot on sight._ "

Margaret's hand flew up on her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.

" _Civilians?_ " Pitcairn gasped.

" _These people are asking for a war. We're going to give them one._ "

"What about my former colleagues?" Yuri asked. "What will you do with them?"

"I'll take care of them myself. I guess... Boston could do with another warning. One thing is for sure, Dr. Einbrecher..."

Gage walked slowly towards Yuri, stopping only when their faces were merely inches apart, a merciless glint alit in his eyes.

"They will not get out of Boston alive again."

Yuri started towards the door, and Margaret hurried down the corridor, before climbing the stairs to her room in a run. When she opened the door, Mary could see straightaway that something terrible had happened.

"What is it? Did he catch you?"

But Margaret shook her head, taking a quill and a piece of paper.

"We have to warn them," she breathed. "Thomas is sending his men to Lexington and Concord."

Mary gasped, her eyes wide in horror.

"We'll take this to Joseph, he'll know how to warn the others," Margaret instructed her maid.

She handed her the note.

"Make sure Joseph read this, do you understand?"

Mary nodded.

"You can count on me."

Margaret smiled.

"I know I can, Mary."

The two women headed downstairs, but Gage was in the hall as well.

" _Where are you going?_ " Gage asked his wife.

"We have a few things to buy downtown," Margaret answered with a smile, a calm expression perfectly hiding her fear.

"I'm sure your maid can go there alone," he said.

Margaret nodded slowly.

"Do you need me for anything?"

"Indeed, I would have loved to spend some time with you."

Margaret nodded again, before turning towards Mary.

"Go on then, Mary. And try not to forget anything."

"Could Madame give me the list we have prepared together, so that I make sure not to forget anything? The one in the bag..."

Margaret opened her purse, and found a folded piece of paper, and she recognized Mary's writing immediately.

"Of course."

She handed her maid the note, but Gage extended his open hand as well.

"May I?"

Margaret gave him the list. There was nothing but clothes and food...

"Be back before nightfall," he instructed Mary, giving her the list.

"Yes, Sir."

When Mary walked out of the house, she didn't lose a second, and started directly towards Joseph Warren's house.

* * *

The knock on the door was urgent, desperate even. James put down his utensil, and asked his patient to wait for a second, before striding to the door.

When he saw the expression on Mary's face, he knew something terrible had happened.

"Mary, what is it?" he urged her, making her come into his house.

She recognized the man lying on the doctor's table as one of the Colonists who were at her marriage, and she heaved a sigh in relief.

"You can trust him," Warren reassured her.

She nodded, trying to catch her breath as she had been running to the doctor's house.

"Mrs. Gage asked me to give you this note," she said, giving Warren the precious letter.

The doctor took slowly the piece of paper in his hand.

"She said Gage was to send men in Concord and Lexington."

Warren's eyes grew wide, and he unfolded the paper in a hurry. He had to read the note twice to believe the words that were written in dark ink.

"You must warn them," Mary said.

She put her hand on his arm.

"Doctor, please. You must save them. Save James..."

Warren nodded.

"Don't worry, I've got this. You should go back now, before Gage doubts you."

Mary nodded, her heart still crushed by fear, and walked throughout the streets again. She had to hurry to buy everything and to go back to Beacon Hill.

The night was already falling.

* * *

" _They're coming._ "

Revere burnt the letter.

" _You're sure you can trust her?_ "

" _With my life_ ," Warren assured him.

Paul turned towards Michael. James was already on his way back to Concord with new recruits.

"We've got to warn them."

"What are we waiting for then?" Michael asked, starting to the door already.

"We won't be able to reach Concord _and_ Lexington on time," Dawes said.

"I'll go to Charleston, and make them give the alert," Paul said. "You two, you go straight to Concord. I'll go warn Sam and Hancock at Lexington."

The two men nodded, and they got saddled.

"Godspeed," Revere said, nodding to the two men, and making his horse run through the shadows of the young night.

A bit later, he took the road to Lexington, leaving two lanterns shining bright in the North Church in his wake.


	24. The Red Coats Are Coming!

**Here's a new chapter, I hope you like it.**

 **Four scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Sunday, if I have enough time to write, that is...**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this chapter. Leave me a review :)**

* * *

 **The Red Coats Are Coming!**

 _April 19, 1775._

It was still night. A shy mist was shrinking their view, hiding the end of the road whilst it drifted between the tall trees. Rays of moonlight were drawing shadowy shapes in the fumes of the was riding fast. He could feel the tensed muscles of his horse under his calves. He had to hurry. Sam's and Hancock's lives were at stake. But he also had to be careful. The sentries were roaming across the roads, careful and focused. And if he was taken, then no one would be able to warn his friends that Pitcairn and his Marines were marching on Lexington, and they would probably die... He forced his horse to run even faster. He had to hurry, he had to hurry...

Somewhere, further on the road, he caught a glimpse of red...

Soldiers.

He stopped, and dismounted, guiding his horse towards the trees, walking silently through the mist.

A loud click pierced the night...

Paul froze, and looked up to come face to face with a British officer and two of his men. He didn't move, taking a quick glance around him, and closed briefly his eyes before looking quickly at the sky.

Sam...

" _Stand right where you are_ ," said the officer, pointing his pistol towards Paul's chest.

He nodded quickly towards Revere's horse, his eyes still fixed on Paul.

" _Search the saddlebags,_ " he added to his men.

He advanced towards Paul and took the reins of his horse, handing them to one of his men. He took a step back, putting more distance between him and the colonist again, before speaking once more to Revere.

" _General Gage has asked that nobody is to leave Boston this evening._ "

Revere shook slowly his head.

" _I wasn't aware of that order_ ," he merely answered.

" _What business calls for you to leave the town at such a late hour._ "

Paul looked intensely at the Marine, his expression darker. Why lie after all?

" _I'm a colonial scout for a resistance against the tyranny of General Gage and the British Crown._ "

The soldiers merely laughed.

" _Is that so?_ " joked the officer.

Revere nodded in response.

" _Yeah._ "

The officer's happy expression crumbled. And before the soldier could make a movement, Paul took his pistol from his hand suddenly, punching him hard on the face. He shot quickly the soldier on his left, hid behind the trunk of a tree to avoid the other soldier's shot, before knocking him down, all in one, swift movement that left the soldiers no chance. One violent hit with the grip of the pistol on his temple, and the officer was lying motionless on the ground as well. He heard soldiers running and calling after him. He climbed back quickly on his horse, and went back on the road.

Well, maybe his ride was not meant to be so much discreet after all...

* * *

Dawes and Michael were riding as fast as they could throughout the woods as well. The mist made it difficult for them to see, but none of them really cared. They had to be quick. Paul was right, after marching on Lexington to capture Sam and Hancock, the Red Coats would undoubtedly walk towards Concord. If they knew where the two men were hiding, they also had heard about the farm as well, without a doubt. They needed to hurry... Across the dark trunks, the sun was slowly appearing, shedding a red light upon the clouds of mist around them.

A red dawn was rising.

* * *

At Lexington, Sam was impatiently pacing across the narrow room. Outside, the sun was rising, covering the world with a blood-like light. He turned quickly towards the door when Sarah came in with coffee, bread and fruits.

"Good morning!" she told them happily. "I thought you might be hungry."

She put the food down on the table, and poured the two men some hot coffee.

"Sorry, we don't have sugar anymore. Apparently, we used the last pieces yesterday."

She handed a cup to Hancock, who thanked her in his usual over-polite manner. An amused smile on her lips, she handed one to Sam, who shook his head, still pacing. She sighed.

"You have to eat something. John told me you hadn't taken anything since yesterday morning."

"I'm not hungry," he replied.

"Starving yourself out will help nothing and no one."

She handed him the cup of coffee again, along with an apple.

"Now Samuel Adams, please, eat something, or I'll tell Joseph and he'll make you drink his terrible concoctions!"

Sam couldn't refrain a small smile, taking the food the woman was offering him.

"Thank you," he said kindly.

He sat down with Hancock at the table.

"Any news?" Hancock asked her.

But the woman shook her head no.

"Nothing so far. I'll go check on Kelly. I'll come back at lunchtime."

"Be careful," Sam warned her.

She merely nodded in response, before taking her coat and walking to the door. She waved at them, making both of the men smile, before exiting the house, closing the door behind her. Sam took another look at the red light that was coming in by the dirty window. He had a weird feeling in his stomach, as if something bad was about to happen. He approached the apple from his lips, but couldn't bite into it, nausea rising inside him.

"Sarah is right, you should eat something," Hancock told him as he was sipping his coffee. "If you don't eat I'll tell her."

"Well, tell her then," Sam mumbled. "I can't swallow anything."

"Why? Are you sick?"

Sam shook his head, looking at the bleeding rays of sunlight again.

"I have a bad feeling..."

* * *

"Good morning Kelly!"

The Irishman turned around, smiling.

"'Morning Sarah."

"Can I help you with anything?" she asked him.

He shook his head, resting the butt of his firearm upon the ground. He was leaning against the watchtower.

"We're all fine, thank you. "

Suddenly, someone came running towards the tower.

" _Sound the alarm!_ " he shouted. " _Sound the alarm!_ "

Above their heads, the bell started to ring.

"What's goin' on?" Kelly asked the newcomer.

The man, panting, looked at them, clearly afraid.

"Paul Revere has just entered the town. The Red Coats are marching on Lexington. They'll soon be here."

Sarah's heart stopped. She had prepared herself, but still... now, she could feel that her hands were shaking with fear.

Sarah and Kelly exchanged a glance.

"Let's welcome them properly then," Kelly answered, his voice hard as stone.

Soon men were coming towards the tower, their weapons already in their hands. Sarah picked up one of the rifles that was lying against the wooden watchtower. But Kelly put one of his big hands upon her soft arm, shaking his head.

"You go with Sam and Hancock to the next safe-house."

"No way," she replied.

"I'm not letting you put your life in danger like that."

She put a hand on his shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

"I'm not even supposed to be here, Kelly. But we can't let Sam and John die. If they die, then it's over, we lose, for sure. Me living or dying has no importance whatsoever."

She flung the rifle upon her shoulder.

"I'm fighting with you today, Kelly. And I'm not asking for your permission. After all, someone as to cover your back."

He smiled tenderly at her, nodding.

"Let's go then. Let's teach these Red Coats a lesson they'll remember."

* * *

Sam and Hancock froze. Outside, a voice was shouting a terrible warning.

" _The Red Coats are coming! The Red Coats are coming!_ "

Sam took his pistol, his back to the door. There were loud footsteps, like someone running towards the front door...

And then the door was flung open. In the blink of an eye, Sam was pointing his firearm towards the door, but he lowered his weapon quickly as he was recognising Paul Revere.

" _You've got to leave, now!_ " Paul told the two men.

Sam shook his head, his jaw set, his breathing heavier.

" _I'm not running away,_ " he said through gritted teeth. " _We have to stay, and we have to fight!_ "

" _No, not a chance,_ " Paul replied firmly.

" _Those men out there are giving their lives to protect us, to protect me!_ " Sam told him, raising his voice and throwing his coat upon his shoulders.

" _Those men need you alive!_ " Revere shouted back.

" _Sam,_ " said Hancock with a scared voice, his tone urgent, " _there's no time, we must leave this place now!_ "

But Sam was already striding towards the front door, his pistols ready. Paul stopped him, putting his hands on his friend's chest, and pushing him back in the dusty room.

" _Sam. SAM!_ "

Both Adams and Revere looked at each other in the eyes for a moment, motionless. When he spoke again, Paul's voice was calm once more.

" _If you die, this whole thing dies with you._ "

Sam struggled to slow down his racing heart, but there was nothing to be done with it. The little thing seemed to be crushing against his ribs at every beat. He swallowed loudly, staring right into Paul's eyes.

"Sarah is gone to see Kelly," he said in a hoarse voice, his tone calmer again. "I won't leave without her."

Paul heaved a painful sigh, but shook his head.

"You can't go out there, Sam."

"I can't leave her here. You know her, she'll fight. She'll get killed!"

"And she will fight to save you!"

Sam shook his head, feeling fear rising inside his body, tensing his muscles, darkening his thoughts, boiling his blood...

He couldn't leave her behind...

"I'll go get her, and then go."

"No!"

Paul pushed him back inside the room again.

"She's with Kelly, I'm sure she'll be alright," Paul reassured him. "He'll protect her. And you know there's too much at stake to take any risk. You can't die, or this whole thing you've set in motion, it's over as well."

He put a hand upon Sam's shoulder.

"I'll go look for her. Now, you and Hancock, you leave the town while there's still time."

Hancock took a look at the street by the dirty window. He shivered. Two Red Coats were riding in the town...

" _It's too late,_ " he said, his voice slightly shaky. " _We'll never make it._ "

Paul took one last look at Sam.

" _Yes you will,_ " he said.

He pushed violently Sam, and ran for the door. The time Sam was steady on his feet again, Paul was already mounting his horse.

" _PAUL!_ "

Sam hurried towards the door, but his friend was already gone. Paul shouted at the two British soldiers, who followed him out of town, pursuing him at full speed. Sam started as Hancock was touching his arm.

"Sam, you've heard him, we have to go."

Hancock couldn't help but hear the voice of Sarah again and again in his head. She had made him promise...

"He won't get to Sarah..." Sam whispered.

"Sarah wouldn't want us to go out there."

He forced Sam to look at him.

"She made me promise that if this situation was to happen, I would make sure you saved your life. She made me promise to take you out of town with me. And I intend to honour my word."

They stared at each other, before Sam would reluctantly nod. He knew he shouldn't go, he could feel it. Something terrible was about to happen, but Paul was right, there was too much at stake. If Hancock and him died now, the men would be too afraid to keep fighting, and it would be the end of all these things they had accomplished.

He strode out of the house with Hancock by the backdoor, and mounted his horse quickly. He took one last look behind him, the sound of men running across the streets echoing in his ears.

Something terrible was about to happen, and he knew it...

* * *

They stopped in the middle of the field, some distance away from the watchtower. They could hear the sound of the heavy march of the soldiers walking in unison. Kelly turned quickly towards Sarah.

"You stay behind me," he told her. "I don't want to see you closer than our third line."

"Kelly..."

"Now, I am the one in charge here."

He nodded towards a man next to them.

"You, you get right behind me once in position."

The man nodded, and Kelly turned towards the scientist again.

"You stay behind him. Please."

She nodded, taking her position.

The Red Coats appeared right in front of them.

" _Regiment, halt!_ " cried an officer. " _Right turn!_ "

The soldiers turned towards the Colonists as one man. Major Pitcairn arrived, riding his horse, his chin high. He stopped right before his men.

" _Ready arms!_ " he ordered.

The British soldiers took position, ready to fight.

Kelly turned towards his own men.

" _We hold our positions,_ " he told them, his voice commanding and raising with every word, and yet warm, in opposition to Pitcairn's cold orders. " _Do not fire, unless fired upon._ "

He turned quickly around, his rifle held tightly in his hands.

" _They want a war?_ " he added, shouting by now. " _Let it be here!_ "

" _Hand over the traitors Samuel Adams and John Hancock, and we will leave peacefully,_ " Pitcairn told the rebels.

" _Go back to London!_ " Kelly answered, staring at Pitcairn. " _You're not wanted here._ "

" _Are you willing to die for two traitors to our King?_ " asked Pitcairn, his voice disdainful.

" _He was never any King of mine, and he is no King to these men,_ " replied Kelly.

" _Disperse, now!_ " Pitcairn ordered.

" _Not another inch on this field will you take!_ " Kelly shouted back. " _You've taken enough!"_

Kelly walked slowly through his men, his eyes still fixed on Pitcairn. There was electricity filling up the air, like little sparks spreading throughout the field and slowly igniting the hearts of all the men who were assembled there, and it brought them both courage and fear to their. But there was such a certainty in Kelly's voice, that all his men were ready to fight by his side.

" _We fight these men today, or our children are fighting them for five hundred years, I promise you that,_ " he said on a softer tone.

He passed right before Sarah, and they exchanged a nod. Both of them were ready, whatever may happen now. He took back his place before his men.

" _Take your positions lads,_ " he ordered, rising his own weapon.

Sarah rose her firearm, ready to aim. She stared at the British soldier who was standing right in front of her. He was younger than her, probably not older than twenty years old. She swallowed, taking deep breaths to steady herself. The adrenaline was sharpening her senses already, and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

She just hoped Sam and John would be safe...

Pitcairn seemed to mumble something under his breath, before taking slowly his sword out of its sheath, and he pointed at the men on his left.

" _Advance!_ " he commanded.

... Sarah didn't believe in God, but right now she had to admit that she would even have been ready to pray if only it could save them...

The soldiers advanced, before kneeling down, taking their position.

...Oh please, if there was a God, just let them be safe...

" _Let them fire first!_ " Kelly ordered, aiming at the Red Coats.

...Please, please let them be safe...

There was a deafening silence. Around them, everything and everyone was still. Even the wind seemed to be too scared to blow.

...Please, save Sam, save Sam...

There was a flash of light as sparks were suddenly vomited by firearms, detonations breaking the heavy silence.

It had begun.

...Save Sam, save Sam...

* * *

They hadn't ridden for more than ten minutes when the loud sound cut the air, sharper than a knife, more terrible than any sound they had ever heard. Sam and Hancock stopped as one man, remaining motionless for a moment, their eyes wide with horror. Sam winced. It was his fault, everything was his fault...

One loud detonation...

* * *

There was one loud detonation from the British, immediately followed by one in the ranks of the Colonists. Sarah glimpsed over at Kelly, and she saw sparks and a cloud of smoke coming out of his rifle. She aimed for a soldier, and fired as well.

On her right, a twenty-year-old boy fell to the ground, his chest already covered with blood.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat, feeling her head spinning, and nausea rising inside her. There was already smoke and a strong scent of gunpowder all around her. Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion.

The man on her left fell on the ground as well, blood flowing out of his pierced brow, and Sarah shivered as she was feeling the warm liquid wetting her cheek.

She threw her rifle away, and picked up her pistol as quickly as possible, her hands shaking. She looked up again. The soldier she had aimed for was lying on the ground, his body shaking as he was pressing a hand against his neck. She could have sworn that she could hear the sound of him drowning in his own blood from where she was standing. It only lasted for a few more seconds, before the man was motionless on the ground. She had killed someone...

She clenched her jaws, fighting the tears blurring her vision, the smell of hot blood drenching the earth and burning gunpowder making her wrinkle her nose. She aimed again, her eyes blinking the time of the detonation, blind for a few seconds, just the time for the cloud of white smoke to be dissipated. The soldier was lying on the ground, his mouth open, his eyes wide, blood pouring out of a dark little hole on his forehead, right between his eyes. She had killed again...

The man right in front of her fell backwards as he was shot in the chest, and the next second, she was choking beneath his weight. The Red Coats ran between the dead, chasing after the few survivors who were now running towards Lexington. They all passed next to her, and she stopped breathing, hiding under the dead body of this man she had never met, and had died for the same cause she had killed for. Pitcairn and his officers galloped through the field as well, aiming their pistols at the fleeing Colonists. After only a few seconds, there were no Red Coats left around her.

She pushed the dead body aside, freeing herself, and sat up. She checked the pulse of the boy on her right, but he was already dead, blood oozing now more slowly from his wound. She looked around, crying, her throat burning with the smoke, panic rising inside of her.

"Kelly!" she called softly, not daring to raise her voice.

No response. She hadn't seen him running, and anyway, she knew he would have never run before the British. She stood up, checking for any Red Coat around her, but they were still far away. Under her feet, blood had changed the dry earth into pools of mud, in which her boots were sinking slowly. The warm liquid was making the ground fume, little clouds of steam rising from the drenched ground. She finally recognised the form of Kelly, and hurried towards him. He was lying on the ground, motionless, blood covering his leg and his arm.

"Kelly!" she called as she was kneeling beside him.

She turned him on his back, and he moaned. She couldn't refrain a sigh of relief. He was alive...

"Kelly, we have to get out of here..."

"No!" he said, his eyes opened by now. "You run, and save yourself."

She shook her head.

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Please, please save yourself. I can't walk anyway."

She desperately looked around her. She didn't have the strength to carry him to the forest, it would be too long, the British would spot them, it was certain. She suddenly noticed some bushes.

"We're gonna hide there," she told him, nodding towards the bushes.

"No! You save yourself! Run! Run now!"

She tried to pull him, but he was too heavy anyway. She looked around again, looking for a solution.

A solution, and quickly...

Just a few feet away, there were four dead men, piled up as they had fallen upon each other while being shot. She couldn't reach the bushes, they were too far away, but the corpses there...

She looked at Kelly, who was moaning loudly now. If he made any sound, he was dead. She didn't have a choice. She held her rifle tightly in her shaking hands.

"I'm sorry for this Kelly, but it's the only way."

He frowned, but before he could ask her anything, she had hit him hard on the head with the butt of her rifle, knocking him down. She pulled him towards the dead shapes and covered his motionless body with the corpses. She then hurried towards the bushes to hide herself. She had barely let herself fall to the ground that the soldiers were coming back.

"Look for survivors," Pitcairn ordered his men. "If you find their leader, tell me. The others, kill them all."

Sarah was lying completely still upon the ground, looking at the scene. Two soldiers saw a Colonist crawling on the floor, terrified, who was trying to escape from the battlefield. They strode towards him, and turned him on his back. She heard him desperately begging for his life, and then a loud detonation, and his head fell back upon the ground, his face turned towards the hidden woman, blood flowing out of his forehead. He was seventeen at the most.

Her eyes still wide with shock, tears flowing out of her eyes, her heart aching, she saw with horror soldiers turning around every corps.

They would find Kelly, and see that he was still alive, and they would do the same with him than they had done with this poor boy just a second before.

The two same soldiers headed towards the four dead men...

She couldn't let this happen, she couldn't.

...One of them started to bend towards the pile of corpses...

She took a deep breath, ready to act, her muscles tensed.

...The Red Coat grabbed one of the bodies by his coat...

She stood up, and started to run towards the woods, making sure to be heard by the soldiers as she was freeing herself from the branches of the bush.

"Get her!" Pitcairn called. "Get her! Leave the others and get her!"

She ran faster than she had ever run in her life. The space between her and the woods was shrinking with every step...

The first shot missed her of only a few inches, creating a little explosion in the earth next to her feet.

...Faster, she had to run faster. She was so close...

A second detonation, and the bullet went landing in the trunk of a tree.

...She was so close, she could make it... She was almost there, just a few more meters...

A violent pain pierced her side, and she cried, throwing her head backwards and falling upon the ground. Her head hit heavily a stone, and then the whole world was shadows.

* * *

Paul was riding fast. He had managed to lose the British, and was hurrying towards Concord. Or that was what he believed. Before him, two Red Coats rode towards him, calling for him to stop.

" _Shit!_ " Paul muttered, covering his face with the dark fabric wrapped around his neck.

He threw his knife to one of the soldiers, killing him in a second. He rode towards the other, his pistol tightly held in his hand. They passed next to each other, firing, and the Red Coat fell on the ground in a thud.

But before Paul could go away, more soldiers were coming.

He tried to run away, but the British shot his horse, and the animal fell on the ground, sending Paul rolling in the skeleton leaves that covered the earth of the forest, still wet with the morning dew.

One soldier arrived first, heading towards Paul, who was motionless on the ground, his face against the earth. Aiming at Revere with his rifle, ready to react, the soldier push him with his boot to turn him on his back. Paul suddenly jumped, avoiding the Red Coat's shot, and fought fiercely with the British. Both now on the ground, Paul held the rifle tightly against the soldier's throat, making him choke loudly. But he managed to free himself from Paul's grasp, hit him hard on the temple with the butt of his firearm, and rose, turning around to kill Paul.

But he didn't have the time to finish what he had begun...

Sam suddenly came out of nowhere, gave the British a strong punch, before knocking him out with a hit of his pistol. He walked closer to Revere, still on the ground.

Behind him, a Red Coat walked silently towards them, his pistol arose, ready to fire...

Sam bent towards Paul, worried, he touched his shoulder.

...The British soldier arrived right behind Sam, he was about to shoot...

A detonation...

Then silence... A deafening silence...

Sam turned quickly around, to discover Hancock, standing right there, his pistol still up in the air, next to the dead body of the Red Coat whom, not a second before, had been aiming at Sam and Paul.

John stared at the dead shape on the ground, blood flowing and staining his uniform, a darker circle at the level of the middle of his back.

He had killed someone...

He looked up as Sam approached him slowly, a soothing expression upon his face. Sam slowly made him lower his pistol.

" _It's alright_ ," Sam told him softly.

John nodded slowly, lowering his firearm completely.

Sam went back to Paul, and helped him to roll on his back.

" _'You all right?_ " he asked his friend.

" _I'll survive_ ," Paul groaned, blood rolling on the side of his face from his wounded temple.

Sam helped him to get back on his feet, and they shook hands. Revere looked at Hancock, who was staring at the dead man again.

" _John,_ " he called.

Hancock looked up again, and focused on Revere.

" _Thank you,_ " Paul told him.

John nodded.

" _I'm gonna head for Concord,_ " Paul told Sam. " _Get you and him to safety._ "

He patted Sam's shoulder, still panting, before walking towards a horse. Sam looked at him as he walked away.

" _Paul. Look after yourself,_ " he told his friend.

Paul merely nodded, before mounting his horse, and heading for Concord again. He had to get there as quick as possible, before Pitcairn and his men had a chance to get there.

Sam looked at Paul riding away, before turning towards Hancock again. The man still looked in shock, though he was clearly struggling to remain calm.

"John, we should go," Sam told him softly.

Hancock nodded once more. Sam offered him his open hand.

"Thank you," he told the panicked man with a kind smile. "You saved my life."

John swallowed back the lump in his throat, before shaking the Sam was offering him.

"I had made a promise to a friend," he answered. "Besides, I could not let you get killed. You are a friend as well."

Sam gave him a small smile, patting his shoulder.

"Let's go Hancock, before more of them arrive."

John followed him through the woods, heading back to where they had hidden their horses.

In his hand, the pistol was shaking.


	25. Concord

**Here comes a new chapter!**

 **One scene was taken from the series in this one.**

 **I have huge problems with my computer these days, so I'm not sure I'll be able to update next Sunday, but I'll do my best to be on time, of course.**

 **Please, tell me what you think about this chapter, it's very important to me. I hope you like this chapter :)**

* * *

 **Concord**

 _April 19, 1775_

Finally they came in sight of Barrett's farm. Michael couldn't refrain a sigh of relief. The place seemed peaceful, no sign of soldiers whatsoever. They still had a bit of time...

Dawes and him hurried towards the house, and as he recognised Michael, Barrett relaxed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Michael. "Who's that?"

"William Dawes," Michael answered while the two men were shaking hands. "He's a friend of Paul's."

"What's wrong?"

" _The British are on their way with a full regiment of men,_ " Dawes answered. " _Whatever you' got in that barn, all the Massachusetts knows you' got it. Can you hide it?_ "

Barrett nodded slowly, looking at his barn where all their ammunitions were, for now, safely hidden.

"I'll go look for the others," said Michael, already walking back towards his horse. "We'll need as many hands as we can get. If the British find all this..."

"We'll all be dead," finished Dawes in a grim voice.

Soon, everybody was at Barrett's farm, helping to hide all their ammunitions. The rifles were wrapped into pieces of clothing and buried in the ground, or hidden with the pigs. They carried the barrels of powder in the woods, and hid them under branches, and into bushes of hawthorn. The canon was carefully hidden in the dunghill. They were almost done when Paul Revere arrived.

" _Where are the weapons?_ " he asked quickly to Barrett.

" _Hidden,_ " he merely answered.

" _Better hope so,_ " Revere mumbled, already striding away.

Michael and James hurried after him.

"How did it go at Lexington?" Michael asked him.

Revere took a quick look around him, but they were out of earshot, and would not have to worry about eavesdropping.

"Sam and Hancock left the town and are heading to a safer place. They'll both be fine."

"What about the others?" asked James. "What about Sarah? And Kelly?"

Paul slowly shook his head.

"I don't know. When we left, the Red Coats were already almost in Lexington. And we heard gunshots."

Michael and James exchanged a worried look.

"Where was Sarah when you came warning them?" James asked, fear shaking his voice. "Was she with Sam and John?"

"No," Paul answered slowly, his voice hoarse. "She was with Kelly. They were at the watchtower. But I had to distract two Red Coats before going there myself. I don't know where they are, nor what they did."

"If you heard gunshots, then we all know what they did," replied Michael.

There was a brief silence, covered with sorrow.

"The only question," Michael went on, "is to know if they survived."

Paul cleared his throat, and gave Michael a rough pat on the back.

"We can't know that for now. And it's not the priority here. We have to be ready to defend the farm when the Red Coats arrive, and they'll soon be here. We have to hurry. There's nothing we can do for them anyway."

Michael nodded, and followed Revere towards the woods. He just hoped Sarah was alright...

* * *

Michael risked a quick look between the branches. He was hiding with the rest of their little army, at the edge of the woods. Pitcairn was dismounting, and walking towards Barrett, who was drinking water and cleaning his face. He ignored the major, until he was actually talking to him. Michael looked at Revere on his right, who was hiding behind a trunk as well. Around his firearm, his knuckles were white, his finger already resting on the trigger. Michael turned around, and took a look at James on his left. His hands were shaking, though his expression was neutral. He looked up, feeling Michael's gaze set upon him, and they stared at each other's for a while. Around them, the forest was silent, except for the piercing singing of a bird from time to time. They could hear the distant sound of the conversation between Barrett and Pitcairn. Michael nodded reassuringly at James.

He would cover him. He had his back, it would be alright...

James nodded as well, feeling his heart slowing down. Pitcairn's voice arose suddenly, cutting the silence like a sharp knife.

" _Clear the tree line!_ " his order rang through the air.

The two scientists took a look at Revere, who merely gestured them to stay still. They were further in the woods than the distance the British soldiers were used to search in this situation, they just had to wait.

James closed his eyes, feeling nausea rising inside him. He didn't know if he would be able to shoot someone. How could he be able to shoot someone?

The soldiers started to walk through the trees, their boots breaking branches and staggering into skeleton leaves. The Red Coats were silent, and yet their footsteps echoed like a loud shout.

Michael tightened his grip around his rifle, ready to react.

The British were barely a few feet away.

James stopped breathing, motionless. He could hear a soldier coming his way. Michael threw him a reassuring look, though inside him, adrenaline was mingling with rising panic. The soldiers stopped walking right on the other side of James's tree.

A soldier put his hand upon the trunk, resting, apparently tired after their fight at Lexington, followed by their long walk to get to Concord. He heaved a sigh.

James closed his eyes. He could have sworn he had felt the Red Coat's breath on the back of his neck...

"Nothing here," a blond soldier called. "Come on, let's go search the other side."

The soldiers started to walk again towards the farm, getting further again. Revere nodded. They were safe.

James let out the breath he had been holding, and rested his head against the trunk, relaxing. Michael grinned at him, thumbs up in his characteristically childish way, and James couldn't refrain a smile.

The second the soldiers had left the cover of the trees, Revere made his men advance towards the farm. They hid again behind trees, waiting and watching the scene before them.

Pitcairn and Barrett were still talking, too far away for any of them to understand any word spoken by the two men. To their ears, it was merely a shushed whisper. Suddenly, Barrett spit on the ground, glowering at the major. James and Michael exchanged a look. It didn't look very good...

" _Tear the place apart!_ " Major Pitcairn shouted to his men. " _Search everywhere_!"

... no, definitely not good at all...

They advanced of a few more meters, still hiding behind trunks, and took position, ready to fire. James's rifle was trembling, as he couldn't control the shakiness of his hands.

Soldiers were searching every inch of the house, the barn, everything... They even started to inspect the furrows where they had buried the rifles.

Suddenly, there was a sound right behind them...

They all turned as one man, their firearms lifted to their cheeks, ready to fire. They all sighed in relief as they were recognising Warren. He rose his open palm to calm his friends down, before advancing with more Colonists towards the edge of the wood. Warren took position right next to Paul, who gave him a pat on the arm, before nodding. Joseph nodded at James and Michael too, before taking aim.

Suddenly, a loud shout cut the air.

" _Major!_ " a soldier cried.

He came running towards Pitcairn, and handed him a bullet he had found in the furrows.

Michael swallowed loudly. This was not good at all...

Pitcairn spoke to Barrett again, throwing the little ball of iron at him, a smirk on his face.

Oh God, Michael hated this bastard...

After only a few words, Barrett threw back the ammunition at the major, who merely pointed at one of his men. In a silent understanding of his officer, the British soldier advanced towards Barrett, and hit him hard on the stomach.

The farmer fell on the ground in a thud.

Michael prepared to fire, but Revere raised his hand.

" _Wait for it,_ " he whispered

The Major pushed Barrett with the tip of his black boot, making him roll on his back. He took his pistol, loaded, and pointed it down to the motionless shape of Barrett on the ground. Michael was aiming at the soldier right behind Pitcairn and then...

One loud order shouted on his left...

" _FIRE!_ " Revere cried.

Michael pressed the trigger, and was blinded by the smoke and the sparks oozing out of his firearm. He blinked, partly deafened by the loud detonations all around him. He took aim again, as soon as he was able to distinguish some moving red shape in the distance through all the smoke, and fired again.

" _Keep firing!_ " Paul cried above the detonations.

There were lying bodies on the ground, everywhere across the farm... James had fired too. He had no idea if he was responsible for any of these young men dead or dying before him, he couldn't have managed to keep his eyes opened, but he felt as guilty as if he had seen his own bullet piercing the chest of this poor boy there... He wanted to throw up. Around him, all the others were firing again, and again... an unending whirlwind of noise, and fire, and desolation, and death, swirling all around him... His head was spinning now. He aimed for Pitcairn anyway, who was shouting his orders to his men, but he couldn't hear them, not with the shouts of riffles spitting their deadly ammunitions. He blinked again as he was shooting, but when he opened his eyes once more, Pitcairn was limping, holding his wounded leg. Oh God... he had shot someone, he was sure this time...

Michael aimed sternly at the soldier who was trying to retrieve the British flag from what had now become a battlefield. A second later, his head was exploding into shreds of flesh and bones, and the flag remained on the ground.

A bullet almost touched James at the shoulder, landing in the trunk of the oak tree behind him. The Englishman closed his eyes, resting his head against the trunk of his own tree. That one had been close...

The Red Coats were now fleeing the farm, shouting to retreat, running back towards the bridge. Paul started to run towards the farm, and soon all the men followed him. They looked at the British running away. Barrett picked up the British flag from the ground, now drenched with blood. He handed it to Paul.

" _Your prize,_ " he told him.

Paul wrapped his strong fingers around the flag, staring at him for a while.

" _Let's dig out the weapons,_ " he said, his eyes lying on the farm again. " _Time to take back our city._ "

They all cheered loudly, while Paul was walking away towards the barn, along with Joseph, Michael and James.

"Have you heard anything about Lexington?" Michael asked the doctor urgently.

But Warren shook his head.

"I don't know anything. I came here right away once I had managed to get outside the city, and gather some of our men. Did you warn Sam and Hancock?"

Paul nodded, staring at the wall in front of him, half lost in thoughts.

"I warned them, and they escaped safely. But I heard gunshots as I was riding out of Lexington. I don't know what happened to the others."

"Kelly and Sarah?" Joseph asked, now a worried glint alit in his eyes.

"I don't know, Joseph," Paul answered in a sad voice, shaking his head.

"We have to go there, try to find out what happened," said James, his voice firm and steady despite the terrible fear that kept twisting his stomach. "I'll go. The Red Coats won't go back to Lexington, they'll aim directly for Boston."

Warren nodded.

"If there has been a fight, then you will most certainly need my help. I'll ride with you."

Michael caught Paul's eyes.

"Will you take care of the weapons?"

Revere nodded.

"Be careful on the road. Don't get caught."

Michael patted James's shoulder, whilst they were marching towards a cart. Michael looked cautiously at his best friend.

"Are you okay?"

James shook slowly his head.

"I've fired on people... I've probably killed someone, and I've hurt another... How can you possibly imagine that I'm okay?"

He shook his head, tears shining in his eyes, his voice shaky.

"I'm not even mentioning the fact that one of my best friends, my sister, is probably agonizing in the middle of a field, if not worse..."

"You can't think like that. She's tough, I'm sure she's alright."

James stopped walking, grabbing Michael's arm. Joseph kept walking and climbed up on the cart, taking the reins, leaving the two friends a moment alone.

"It's a bloody war! Wake up!" James snapped, tears flowing down his face now. "We're killing people! We're not supposed to be killing people!"

"But if we don't kill them, they'll kill us, James."

The Englishman ran a trembling hand through is hair, sniffing loudly.

"I know what you're feeling, I'm feeling just the same," Michael told him softly. "But we have to do it. Because if we don't, we'll die. And my Country will never be born."

James sighed.

"Now, let's go to Lexington, right?" Michael went on. "I'm sure Sarah will be waiting for us, already taking care of the wounded."

James nodded, sweeping the tears off his face.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Michael wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Don't be. I'm feeling just the same."

James jumped into the cart, struggling to swallow back the lump in his throat.

Though he kept repeating to himself that Michael was right, that surely Sarah was alright, the pain in his chest was telling him that is was just a lie.

* * *

They finally arrived into Lexington. At first, everyone was fleeing before them, the after effect of the battle that had shaken the little community. Finally, one of their men recognized them, and hurried towards the cart, limping.

"Joshua!" Michael called for him, recognizing the young man as well. "Where is everyone?"

"Gone follow the Red Coats," he said as the three men were dismounting. "For those who could follow. The wounded are in the church."

They started to walk towards the wooden church.

"Where are Kelly and Sarah? Are they alright?" James asked urgently.

Joshua struggled to swallow, throwing them a cautious look.

"Well... Mr. Kelly was wounded. He took a bullet in his arm, and another in his leg. We found him, knocked out, under a pile of corpses. The British killed all the other wounded on the field, he was lucky, they must have missed him as they were walking around."

"And Sarah? What about Sarah?" Joseph pressed him.

"I don't know."

They frowned.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Michael asked him.

Joshua took a deep breath, before diving.

"The Red Coats captured her. I didn't see it myself, but several men saw her running from the field towards the woods, and being shot. Then, she was carried away. I don't know what they've done with her."

Michael closed his eyes, bending, his hands on his knees. This was a nightmare, it had to be, and he wanted to wake up, now...

He started when Joseph rested his palm upon his shoulder.

"If they took her away, it means that she's still alive. She would be of no use to them if she was dead."

Michael stood straighter again, and nodded at Warren. He was pale as sheets, and was shaking, but he couldn't help it.

"You're right."

"I have to take care of the wounded," Joseph said.

"We'll help," Michael answered. "Anyway, there's nothing we can do for now."

James nodded without a word, his head low, hiding the tears wetting his cheeks. He had felt it...

Kelly was awake. Joseph healed his wounds as well as he could under the circumstances, and despite their fear for Sarah, they were all three relieved to see Kelly. Warren was reassuring, and thought that he would be alright, with a bit of time.

"She saved my life," Kelly told his three friends, tears shining in his eyes.

He sniffed, fighting back his tears. James had never seen him cry, and it was the less reassuring sight in the world.

"She found me, wounded, when the Red Coats ran after the rest of us who were trying to run away. She knocked me out, probably because I was moaning. When I woke up, I was here. Joshua told me they had found me hidden under a pile of corpses, well, no wonder how I ended up there..."

He looked up at Michael and James.

"I didn't see anything."

Michael nodded slowly, before patting his shoulder.

"We're just glad you're fine Kelly. Besides, risking her life to save yours, it sounds just like her."

"I should have stopped her when she insisted on fighting with us..."

"You know how she is," James smiled sadly. "There's no more stubborn woman on this Earth, in both our periods of time."

They couldn't refrain a smile, though the four men's eyes were glimmering in the light of the falling sun.

"We have to warn the others," Michael spoke again.

"I've already sent two men at Concord. Surely they'll find a way to warn Paul," Kelly told them.

"We have to warn Sam and Hancock as well," Warren said. "I'll stay here with Kelly, and do my best with the wounded. You should go find them with Joshua, as he knows what happened."

They nodded, and James and Michael walked back towards the door. Kelly locked his gaze on the ground.

"It's not your fault," Joseph told him kindly, reading his mind.

"Of course it is," Kelly replied. "I should have been more... firm with her. I should have forbade her to come."

"If she wanted to fight, she would have fought whatever you may have told her, and you know it."

Kelly shook his head slowly.

"I should have protected her..."

He looked up at Joseph.

"What will happen to her now?"

* * *

Yuri hurried towards Hancock's mansion. He had just heard about his former colleague, and God only knew what Gage would do to her... He let the soldier guide him towards the General's office.

"Ah... Dr. Einbrecher, what may I do for you?" Gage asked in his usual cold tone.

"I've heard your men have captured Sarah Hugo," Yuri said cautiously.

"Yes, they have indeed. She was trying to flee after having savagely attacked my men..."

"I was wondering what you were planning to do with her."

Gage intensely looked at him, his grey eyes piercing Yuri to his very soul.

"And why would it be any concern of yours?" Gage slowly asked him.

"Well, I know her quite well. Though we didn't agree on many things, she still remains my colleague. I was merely wondering what would be happening to her now, nothing more."

Gage leaned back in his chair, still staring at Yuri. There was more to it, and the military man knew it. It was a good thing, that the scientist cared about her. It would only be more efficient when Gage would make an example out of her...

"Before I answer your question, I would like to thank you for your help," the General said. "Though my men have failed in achieving their mission, your information were undoubtedly correct. I wish my officers had listened to you more closely, therefore they may have not made fools of themselves."

"You know you can count on me, and on my two colleagues as well."

"I have realized that, doctor. And I shall remember it."

He tapped his fingertips upon his desk, and soon Yuri was annoyed, to say the least, but his face remained blank anyway.

"To answer your question... I will talk to her, try to reason her. But I doubt that she will be of any help for us," Gage answered in his slow and low voice. "And I reckon that the people of Boston need a little... reminder of whom is in command in this City. And of what would happen to any traitor to our King."

He leaned forward towards Yuri.

"I will make an example out of her, but not only. She is of great strategic value as well."

Yuri struggled to swallow.

"What do you mean?"

"I will punish her for her crimes against the British Crown, but I will also use her to reach a bigger fish..."

His Adam's apple trembled, and the ghost of a cruel smirk appeared on his lips.

"She will do a marvellous bait indeed..."

* * *

She had no idea where she was. She had woken up here, in this dark and moist room. The sound of droplets of water regularly falling on the ground in a thud was driving her mad. She couldn't see anything. There were no windows, the door was made of wood and let no light come in from the outside. Several times, something had touched her feet. She had guessed it was rats, but she couldn't be sure, and would rather not know anyway. She was still awfully weak. She had lost the count of time long ago now, but she felt like she had been there for days already. Her throat and her mouth were dry with thirst, and her stomach was made painful by hunger. She had finally stopped bleeding, but her side was still sore, and it felt like a dagger was piercing her flesh every time she tried to move. She felt so weak... She was permanently falling in and out of slumber. And again, and again, the same thoughts were swirling like a whirlwind in her messy mind.

The fire, the smoke, the smell of gunpowder, the shouts, the blood, the men falling, the blood, Kelly moaning, the blood, the blood, the blood everywhere...

And every time her heart skipped a beat, fear tightening her throat and wetting her eyes.

...Sam...

Suddenly, she heard footsteps in front of the door. It was the first time she heard anything since she had woken up, except for the torturing sound of the falling water. It was boots... military boots, she could recognize the sound...

A few whispers, and then the door opened.

She was completely blinded by the light of the sun. She couldn't see anything but white, white everywhere after this ocean of shadows... She blinked, and finally managed to distinguish something red...

Red Coats...

Two soldiers came inside, and dragged her out of the cell. She was too weak to resist, too weak to realise where they were carrying her. She blacked out again for a moment, and when she opened her eyes once more, she was being dragged in a street. She could feel the irregular paving stones hurting her numb legs. She looked up, and saw people staring at her. She recognized the house before which they were passing. They were heading towards the square.

In the middle of the square, there was the large pillar that had been used to attach the man who had been flogged. Sarah closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek, bending down her head again.

So that was it then... She was going to die like this...

The soldiers carried her through the crowd that had been gathered in the square, in a similar manner than they had done the last time they had made an example out of a poor soul.

Now, it was her turn.

They attached her to the wooden pillar, and left her there, hanging by the wrists, too tired to stand on her feet, her brow resting against the wood heated up by the morning sun in her back.

The sound of boots slamming against the cobblestones echoed next to her. She looked up, resting her cheek on her upper arm to keep her head high enough to see who was walking towards her. It was Major Pitcairn. He was limping, but his face was stern, and the look he threw at her was full of disdain. She merely glowered at him in response.

Pitcairn pointed down at her, open-palmed, his attention back on the crowd around them.

"This woman here, is a traitor," he said loudly, his voice clear, and piercing the dense atmosphere.

There was a whisper across the crowd, and they were all looking at her with a scared expression. But Sarah knew why they were afraid, and it wasn't because she was accused to be a traitor. They were afraid of what would happen to her, once Pitcairn's speech would be over. And she had to admit that she felt just as terrified as them.

"This woman is a traitor to our King," Pitcairn said again. "She has fired upon, and killed British Marines. And for these acts, she should be condemned to death..."

She closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her ears. That was it, it was the end...

"But..."

She opened her eyes again, furrowing her brow.

"...General Gage have first a message to send to another traitor."

There was a deafening silence, broken by the sound of boots against the pavement. General Gage looked down at her as he walked next to her, and she saw only disgust in his stormy eyes.

"I am sure some of you will find a way to contact Samuel Adams," Gage said loudly, his voice slow, as usual. "I wish you to deliver a message to him for me. He has five days to turn himself in. He must present himself to me or one of my men, here, upon this very square, unarmed, and alone. If he does so, I shall be merciful and let this... _traitor_ go."

He walked around the wooden pillar, facing the other side of the square, his hands in his back, standing very straight.

"If, however, he decides to remain hidden, I will personally see that the law of the Crown shall be applied on this woman. And I will use this occasion to remind to all of you what is the cost for treachery under the reign of our King."

He walked around Sarah again.

"My offer is very simple. If Samuel Adams turns himself in, in less than five days, I will let her live. If he does not, and hides like the coward he is, well then... I shall kill her myself. As long as Samuel Adams has not surrendered to the justice of the Crown, and her reprieve has not yet ended, she shall remain here, under the eyes of the people of Boston. And may her fate be an example for all of you. Anyone caught talking to the prisoner, or giving her any type of food or beverage will be considered a traitor, and will be shot on sight."

There was a loud whisper in the crowd all around the square.

General Gage looked down at Sarah once more, and she stared right back into his cruel eyes.

"But I would tell Adams to hurry, if I were you," Gage went on, a cruel smirk on his face. "His friend does not seem very well after all. She might not last five days."

He turned around and walked away. The crowd was soon dissipated as well, and Sarah was left alone, in chains, hanging at the wooden pillar under the shivering sun of April, her side painful at every breath. She looked up at the blue sky of the early morning.

...Sam...

* * *

Sam was pacing frantically throughout the living room. It was dawn now, and he and Hancock still had not had any news from Lexington nor Concord. His cousin was sitting in a chair next to Hancock, both of them staring into the void of the rising sun. Outside, red rays of light were chasing away the last crawling shadows of the night. Abigail Adams entered the room, her face tired as well. None of them had slept that night.

"Do any of you would like to drink or eat something?" she asked them kindly.

Sam didn't even answer, and the two other men merely shook their heads. She sat next to her husband, and he took slowly her hand in his, in a reassuring gesture.

Suddenly, there was the sound of hooves coming towards the house.

Sam hurried towards the window, and ran out of his cousin's house to meet the riders as he recognized James and Michael. Soon, he was joined by the others.

"What happened?" he asked urgently.

The dark look of the scientists froze his heart.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Let's get inside," James answered.

They led their horses inside the barn, before walking towards John Adams' house again, sitting down. Abigail prepared some coffee and bread for them, but none of the three riders ate nor drank anything.

"So, what happened?" Hancock desperately asked.

Michael gave Joshua a nod, and the boy told them about Lexington.

"We went out on the field as soon as we heard Mr. Revere call. Then, we met the Red Coats. We fought, but we were too few. They chased us till Lexington."

"How many men did we lose?" asked Sam.

"I don't know for sure, as I left while doctor Warren was still taking care of the wounded. But when I left, twelve men were dead, five more dying."

Abigail covered her mouth with her hand, and John took her free hand in his again.

"What about Concord?" asked Hancock.

"We defended the farm with Paul. The British were on the run when we left. Apparently, our men followed them to Boston. They retreated inside the City during the night," Michael answered. "We kept all the ammunitions, but the farm is not safe anymore. We'll have to move, to keep pressure on the City."

"What about Kelly and Sarah? Have you heard of them?" Sam asked, looking down at his feet.

He couldn't control the shakiness in his voice.

Michael and James exchanged a look.

"Kelly has been wounded at Lexington," James answered. "He was shot in the arm and the leg. But we left Joseph with him, and he said he would be alright."

Sam looked up at him, as James was not pursuing.

"And Sarah?"

James shook his head, unable to speak, fleeing Sam's piercing gaze.

"She was taken prisoner by the Red Coats," Michael said slowly.

There was a deafening silence, and for a moment the world was completely still. It was like time had been stopped, freezing the scene there, after the terrible revelation.

Sam could barely breathe, staring at Michael, his eyes wide. This couldn't be...

"She saved Kelly, and was shot as she was apparently dragging attention away from the battlefield, probably to avoid the soldiers to find Kelly," Michael went on. "Apparently, they've taken her to Boston. We don't know anything more for now."

Sam couldn't move. He vaguely heard his cousin calling for him, but he couldn't listen.

Gage had her. Gage had Sarah...

He started as John Adams touched his shoulder.

"Sam?" he asked him, his eyes wet with tears.

Sam looked at Hancock, who was looking questioningly at him as well, his eyes shining too. But Sam couldn't listen, not now...

"We have to get her back," he said slowly, his voice hoarse, his jaws clenched.

John propped up an eyebrow.

"How?"

Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but we must do something. We must act before Gage..."

His voice broke. He couldn't form the words on his tongue, their meaning was too terrible. He shook his head angrily.

"We have to get her back..."

"And how are you planning to do it?" John asked him. "We can't simply walk into Boston, and take her out of there."

"None of this should have happened anyway," Sam said through gritted teeth."Why didn't you warn us?"

"We're not the only ones who know what is going to happen, remember?" Michael replied, his tone angrier as well. "And there are many things that we cannot prevent to happen, for many reasons. I thought we had agreed on this point."

Sam closed his eyes, looking down at his knees again.

"Of course..."

"What do we do then?" Hancock asked. "I agree to the fact that we cannot merely enter the City, but we cannot remain here either when Sarah is about to be killed."

"We have to learn where she is first, and then make her escape," Sam said.

"But you three remain here. We won't take any risks," James said firmly.

The sound of hooves broke the silence again, and John went to open the door, as James had recognised Amos by the window.

"What news?" Michael asked.

"Gage has Sarah," Amos answered, his eyes wider than usual.

"We know," James answered.

But Amos shook his head.

"He has a message for you, Sam."

Sam frowned, listening closely, his heart racing.

"He has attached her in the square, at the pillar where he had flogged the other man a few months ago," Amos went on, his voice hoarse. "He says he gives you five days to turn yourself in. If you surrender, he'll let her go. If you don't..."

He didn't have to finish his sentence for everyone in the room to shudder.

Sam clenched his jaws, his fists tightly closed as well. He had to go.

"I'll turn myself in then," he stated.

"You can't do this," Michael protested.

"I won't just... wait here," he said through gritted teeth.

He stood up, and walked towards the door. But James held him back.

"So what's your plan?" he asked him, his voice angry. "Ride to Boston, and get killed like an idiot, that's it?"

Sam stared back at him. But James tightened his grip on his arm when Sam tried to free himself from his grasp. The Englishman looked at him to his soul.

"She did it for you."

Sam blinked, fighting back his tears, but remained silent.

"She fought so that you and Hancock could safely get out of Lexington," James told him. "If you go there, and you get killed, she will have done all this for nothing! We will have all done all this for nothing!"

James shook his head, crying by now.

"I've shot people yesterday. I have dedicated my life to work to help people, to find ways to improve their lives, to protect them. I've come here to make sure that no one would be hurt on our behalf, and now I've shot people!"

He clenched his jaws.

"And Sarah took a bullet for you. She's held prisoner because she sacrificed herself for you. Now, I'm not going to let you throw your life away in one of your suicidal impulse, not when my best friend will probably die to make sure that you would live. So now, you stop acting like a moron, and you put back your arse on this chair!"

Sam let James drag him back to the table, but he didn't let him make him sit back. Michael leaned towards Sam, and spoke in a calmer tone than his friend.

"You have to understand, that we can't let you die. Our lives are expendable, not yours. If you die, it's all over. You're the soul of this whole thing. Without you, it all stops."

Sam nodded slowly.

"We have to do something," he merely replied.

"She was wounded," Amos added. "Whatever we do, we must do it fast."

Sam shook his head again, and headed upstairs before anyone could stop him. He opened the door of his bedroom, pacing, before letting himself fall upon his bed, crumbling. He rested his brow in his palms, tears flowing down upon his cheeks.

He couldn't lose her... He couldn't live all this all over again...

He started as he heard the sound of footsteps before the door, and only noticed then that he had left it opened. Hancock was standing on the threshold. He entered the room and sat next to Sam. He was crying as well.

"Do you remember when we left for Lexington?" Hancock asked him softly. "Sarah would leave one day after us, she was so scared for us to travel by night alone on the roads..."

Hancock's voice was hoarse and shaky, and he looked down at his knees, but he kept talking anyway. He was holding a little letter, still sealed, in his trembling hands.

"She made me swear to do whatever was necessary to keep both of us alive. She knew you would act like the reckless, stubborn idiot you are sometimes, and so she made me promise that I would convince you to save your life, and not hers."

He looked at Sam in the eyes, both of them crying, but none of them felt ashamed.

"And I promised. I gave her my word. And if there is one thing that I would do anything for, it is to keep this promise I have made to her. And now more than ever."

He looked down at the letter in his hands again.

"We cannot act harshly, but it does not mean that we cannot act at all, Sam."

He handed him the letter.

"She asked me to give you this if something happened to her. I guess that being shot and taken prisoner by Gage fits into this category."

He patted Sam on the shoulder, before walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. Upon the sealed paper, Sam's name was gracefully written, and he recognised Sarah's writing in a second.

Sam opened quickly the envelop, and his heart stopped as he read several times her words. He was shaken by a sob, and buried his head in his hands again. After a while he finally calmed down, and started to think. He suddenly lifted up his head, staring at the blank wall before him.

Maybe he couldn't merely turn himself in, but he couldn't do nothing either. And it was the only way to save her...

And God knew he would have done anything to save her...

He quickly rose from the bed, his cheeks dry, his face determined again, and headed back downstairs.

He couldn't just stay there and do nothing.

On the bed, the short note remained there, over the soft covers, the three little words, traced in Sarah's graceful handwriting in dark ink glimmering in a ray of sunshine.

 _I love you._


	26. The Bait

**I'm so sorry I couldn't update earlier. It was the end of the semester, and my classes at University were very tough, I didn't write anyting these past month. I'm in Holiday for now, so I hope to have a bit more time.**

 **Anyway, no scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **I hope you like this chapter, please, tell me what you think about it, and sorry again for the long waiting.**

* * *

 **The Bait**

That night, Yuri begged Gage to let him talk with Sarah.

"Maybe I could convince her to give you some information," he argued.

"I have already announced my decision to the people of Boston," the General replied firmly. "I cannot come back on my words now."

"Please... She could be very valuable. She could tell you about their ammunitions, and their weapons. If only you could give me five minutes with her..."

"Soon you will be begging for her life as well, will you not?"

Yuri looked down at his feet.

"If she accepts to give us information..."

"She will not betray her friends," Gage snapped, interrupting the scientist. "You know her better than I do, and I know she would rather die than tell us anything we could use against this band of traitors."

"I could still try."

Yuri looked up at Gage, holding his stare.

"Please, please I beg you. Just five minutes. If I can convince her, then you will have learned new information. If I can't, then I will have lost five minutes talking to her. Nothing more."

Gage nodded slowly, picking up some parchment, and writing a quick note.

"I guess you can see her for five minutes. But you shall not give her any food, drink or medical attention. Only words, nothing more."

"Thank you, General."

Yuri took the note the military man was handing him, and walked towards the door.

"Oh, and Dr. Einbrecher..." Gage called him back.

The scientist turned back towards the General.

"The next time you make me waste my time in the evening," Gage said slowly, "you will be the one attached to this pillar in the square. Am I clear?"

Yuri struggled to swallow.

"Very clear, General. I'm sorry, it will not happen again."

Gage nodded, and Yuri walked out of the room, letting out a deep breath. This one had been close...

He hurried towards the square, presented his authorisation to the soldiers who were guarding the square, and advanced towards the desperate form attached to the pillar. Tough the moon was shining, he could barely see her through the heavy darkness.

"Sarah?" he called for her softly.

She shook herself up, wondering if the voice was only in her head, or was real. She looked up, and glowered at Yuri when she recognized him in the dim light of the moon. He felt his heart breaking by this look of hatred in her eyes.

"How are you?" he asked her, kneeling next to her.

"How do you think I am?" she snapped, her voice made hoarse by her dry throat.

"I'm so sorry. There was nothing I could do."

"What do you want?"

He remained silence, but she was not fooled. She shook her head.

"You would never have come here if you hadn't had a good reason to, so what do you want?"

"To save your life," he answered slowly.

She snorted.

"It's a bit late for that I'm afraid," she whispered.

"No, there's still time."

He got closer to her, their faces merely a few inches apart.

"If you agree to give Gage some information," he said softly, as if he spoke to young child that needed to understand the harsh reality of the world, "he will let you live."

She looked up at him, and all could see was loathing in her glance.

"I'm not a traitor," she spat.

She held her head higher.

"Maybe I'm going to die," she said with a defiant voice, "but at least I will die because I have done what is right. At least I won't have betrayed my friends."

"You betrayed us though," Yuri snapped back. "You betrayed me!"

"You betrayed me first, remember? And I haven't betrayed anyone by choosing to help the Sons of Liberty, I've made a choice, just like you did. Only you decided to save your own neck, when I decided to fight to defend what I believe in."

"You'll die..."

"So be it then."

"You just have to tell him what you know about the rebels..."

"And then what? I will live, and they will die? I will live, and lose everything?"

"You wouldn't lose everything, you would have me..."

He took her face in his hands, and though the touch of his fingers against her skin made her want to throw up, she was too weak to resist. He intensely stared at her.

"I love you, Sarah."

Her eyes widened.

"Can't you see?" Yuri went on. "I've always loved you. Now, if you tell Gage what you know, he would let you live, and with a bit of time, he could even forgive you. We could start all over again, forget all this mess... We could be together."

A tear rolled down her cheek. She pitied him so much... But he had to hear the truth, for his own sake. She could see hope burning in his eyes, and she knew she had to break this foolish hope of his if she wanted to set him free.

"I don't love you, Yuri."

He felt his heart breaking.

"I'm sorry," she went on, her voice softer than before. "But I don't feel the same. And I never will."

"Maybe with a bit of time..." he tried.

But she shook her head.

"I will never love you, I'm sorry. My heart already belongs to someone else."

Here, his heart was completely broken by now... He clenched his jaws.

"Adams?"

She didn't answer.

"You love Samuel Adams, right?"

She nodded slowly. He let go of her face.

"Why?" was all he could manage to ask.

She shrugged.

"I love him, I don't reckon I need to have a reason."

"He's a drunk!" Yuri protested angrily. "He's a smuggler, he's nothing!"

She heaved a sigh.

"Maybe, maybe you're right. But he's brave as well. And kind, and caring. He is the most selfless person I've ever met. He never thinks about himself, always about others. He doesn't want money, nor anything he could use for himself, he merely wants what is just and fair for everyone. He merely wants for his friends and his people to be free. He's a good man, Yuri."

She shook her head.

"And you're not."

He breathed heavily, his voice shaking.

"So, you're waiting for him to turn himself in? You're precious, perfect prince who will come on his white horse to save you?"

"No Yuri, that's not what I hope. I hope he will not come."

He frowned, unable to understand, too selfish to realize that the woman before him was ready to sacrifice her own life, if it meant that it could save the man she loved. She looked down again, closing her eyes, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded like a prayer.

"I hope he will not come. Please, please Sam, leave me here..."

* * *

Samuel was walking through the streets of Boston again. He hadn't been there for months, and he had missed it so much... Above him, the sun was shining bright. He breathed deeply the smell of the sea as he walked in the harbour, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of the sun upon his face. He heaved a sigh, hurrying towards the square. A shame really, that he wouldn't be enjoying his city for long... He walked into the square.

He froze as he caught sight of Sarah. She was chained at the wooden pillar, her back to him, her face against the wood, hanging by the wrists as she was probably too weak to stand. He clenched his fists, his jaws set, tears blurring his vision. Wrath was burning every fibre of his body, and he promised himself to make them men who had done this to her pay. In his heart, he knew he would never find peace again as long as he wouldn't have found justice for her, and for all of his men who had been killed at Lexington. But for now, he had to delay his vengeance. For now, all that mattered was to save the trembling form before him. He advanced towards the Red Coats who were guarding the square.

A second later, the soldiers were pointing their rifles at him, and Sam raised up his hands. A soldier searched him, but he had no weapon. All this time, he had kept his eyes locked upon Sarah's back. Finally, she turned slowly towards him, and her eyes widened with horror at the sight of him standing between the two Red Coats.

No... this couldn't be... Sarah felt tears forming in her eyes. Why had he come? He couldn't give up, not him... She could have endured anything but this. She couldn't see him die...

The exhaustion on her face was heartbreaking. She was so pale... She started to cry as her blue eyes were meeting Sam's dark glance. She hadn't wanted him to surrender, he knew it. But what else could he do? It was the only way...

In less than five minutes, a huge crowd had gathered around the square, and soon General Gage, along with his officers, arrived to the dreadful place as well. The ghost of a smirk appeared upon Gage's cruel lips.

With a quick gesture of the hand, he commanded his men to bring Sam forward, next to Sarah. With the butt of his rifle, the soldier hit Sam hard on the stomach, and he fell down on his knees, one hand clenched upon his painful abdomen, the other one the ground. He struggled to breathe. On his right, next to him, he could hear Sarah crying. The tip of a pair of black, very clean boots appeared right before his eyes as he was still fighting for breath.

"I have to say," Gage said slowly, " that I did not think that you would show your face, Mr. Adams."

Sam looked up, getting straighter again, though still not able to stand, choking. He glimpsed at the crowd on his left, and caught sight of Joseph Warren.

"I thought you would be too much of a coward to come," Gage went on.

Sam looked up at Gage.

"Clearly, you underestimated me," he replied coldly, his voice made hoarse by the lack of air in his lungs.

"Clearly."

Sam managed to breathe more steadily again, and stared at Gage, his voice calm, though terribly cool.

"You had a bargain to offer me," the American reminded the British.

"Indeed," the General replied in his characteristically slow voice.

"Well, I accept it. Let her go now."

"Will you surrender?"

"No!"

They all looked at Sarah. She was still crying, shaking her head.

"Sam, no..." she begged.

"I won't let you die," Sam replied, his voice soft and tender.

"Please..."

"Sarah, I won't leave you here. I will get you out of here. I promise."

He turned his attention back upon the General. And nodded.

"Let her go now," he repeated.

His dark eyes still fixed upon Gage's grey glance, they looked at it each other for a while, reading the other's soul. Sam read the dedication the British had for his King, and he knew he would do anything he would judge necessary to quash their insurrection. And Gage read the will of this Colonist who was ready to sacrifice anything to make things change. And both of them knew they would never make the other bend, unless before Death itself.

Gage nodded towards Sarah, and two Red Coats unchained her. They let her fall backwards, as she was too weak to prevent herself from crumbling to the ground. Sam caught her in his arms at the last second. She looked up at him, as he cradled her tenderly in his arms.

"Sam, you shouldn't have come," she told him, still crying.

The tears didn't seem to be willing to stop flowing down her dirty cheeks.

"I couldn't let you here, could I?" he answered, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He caressed tenderly her cheek.

"You'll be alright," he reassured her.

How could she be alright? He would be killed...

"Sam..."

Two hands appeared upon his shoulders, and started to pull him up.

"Let her see a doctor," Sam told Gage, as he rose from the ground, and his back was pressed against the wooden pillar by the two Red Coats. "Please."

Gage nodded, and the next second Joseph was by Sarah's side.

"Joseph..." she whispered, too weak to speak louder, feeling her eyelids falling. "Joseph, save him, please, don't let him do this."

"Don't worry, it will be alright," the doctor reassured her.

Warren turned towards Gage.

"She needs surgery. Let me take her to my house. I need my equipment, and I need to work upon a clean table."

Gage gestured him to go, and Joseph lifted her off the ground. Two soldiers followed him as he walked through the crowd.

"No! No!" she protested.

"Sarah, calm down."

"No! Sam!" she cried.

Joseph disappeared in an adjacent street, and the cries died out. Gage faced Samuel, staring into his eyes again. Slowly, he took several steps back, taking his pistol in his hand.

"Samuel Adams," he spoke slowly, "you have betrayed your King and your Country. By the will of the British Crown, I will carry out the rightful sentence that a traitor like you should endure, by his Majesty's will."

He raised up his pistol. The two soldiers backed away, and Sam didn't move.

"His Majesty is not willing to give his people the right to have a fair trial, does he?" Sam answered, his chin high.

There was an angry rumour in the crowd all around the square...

"He's not willing to let his people eat either," Sam went on, "or he wouldn't ask so much taxes that food on the table has become a rare privilege."

The rumour grew only louder... And Sam went on once more.

"He doesn't want his people to have work, and to pay for a roof above the head of their children."

The rumour was a loud protest now...

"Oh, but he is willing to let a man be flogged in public, before women and children!" Sam added, his voice becoming an angry shout. "He is willing to let a wounded woman being tortured in front of a whole city! He is willing to let a man be executed without seeing the face of a judge or a lawyer!"

The crowd was now boiling, pushing the Red Coats, throwing stones at them. And all around the square, the same words were shouted.

 _He is right, this man is right, it's unfair..._

Sam held his chin even higher, his loud voice shaky with anger, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Well, before such a King, I am proud to be called a traitor."

Gage took a quick look at the angry crowd around him, that would soon turn into a mob. Adams was turning the crowd against him and his men. Clever, undoubtedly, but not sufficient to save his life.

Gage armed his pistol.

"Goodbye, Mr. Adams."

Sam looked above Gage's shoulder, and couldn't refrain a smile.

"Goodbye, General Gage."

Suddenly, a very little vial was flying above the soldiers, landing a few feet away from the General.

The second it touched the ground, the pavement exploded, sending shreds of broken stones throughout the square. Gage fired, though unable to aim correctly as he was blinded by stones and earth. He missed, and when he opened his eyes again, Sam had already disappeared. All around him, the crowd was a complete chaos. And through this mess, there was no chance of finding the man.

"Secure all the roads!" he cried his orders to his officers. "No one leaves this city!"

The officers nodded, saluted, and ran organizing the closing of the town. Gage clenched his jaws. He would not let him get away...

* * *

"Joseph... Joseph please stop him!"

Sarah was too weak to fight as Warren was carrying her in the dirty street, hurrying towards his house.

"Sarah, trust me," he told her.

"Joseph..."

She couldn't fight against her falling eyelids anymore. Slowly, she closed her eyes.

"You must stay conscious," he told her.

But her eyes remained closed. Joseph clenched his jaws, and hurried down the street, wading through the mud. Behind him, the two Red Coats were following them closely, making sure they wouldn't get away.

Joseph disappeared around the corner of the street, and the two soldiers hurried after him. But Warren and Sarah were not alone anymore...

Amos jumped on the back of the first Red Coat, whilst Michael was knocking the other one down with a heavy stick. Soon, the two soldiers were hidden in a dark corner.

The three men ran across the town, conscious that every second was precious from now on. They were already several streets away, and yet they heard the low detonation of the vial of nitro-glycerine exploding in the square, and the loud shouts of the crowd in panic. It was only a matter of minutes before the whole town would be filled with Red Coats. They had so little time to carry the woman away...

Finally they arrived to the Green Dragon, where James was waiting for them with horses.

"Hurry up!" he urged them. "I'll go help Sam and Paul."

Joseph kept Sarah with him on his horse, and they hurried down the street.

The Red Coats were still far behind, they would have time to get out of the City...

James guided the remaining horses further into town. He knew which streets his two friends would use, they had planned everything the previous night.

He could hear the whisper of the soldiers coming their way, the heavy sound of running footsteps echoing through the deserted streets. Soon, he arrived to Paul's shop, and he waited there for the two men to arrive.

Two streets afar, gunshots were exchanged. James stopped breathing...

Sam appeared at the corner, dragging Paul with him, running as fast as he could. His forehead was bleeding, but despite this scratch he seemed to be alright, and Paul right behind him seemed to be unhurt as well. They jumped upon their horses, and hurried throughout the wet streets, along with James. Behind them, the Red Coats were still firing. Sam felt a bullet pass on his left and saw it landing into a wall before him. They took a corner, galloping as fast as they could.

They finally managed to get to the main road, but soldiers were already pilling up pieces of wood and barrels to shut the way. They headed towards the woods near the road, while the British were firing at them again. But they were too fast, and too far away, and the soldiers missed.

Soon, they found back Warren, Amos and Michael in the middle of the woods, along with John and Hancock, who were carrying carefully Sarah at the back of a cart.

Sam dismounted and jumped into the cart with the unconscious scientist. Joseph joined him in the cart as well, taking a closer look at Sarah's wound.

Amos and Paul turned around.

"We'll make sure you're not followed," Paul told the others. "Hurry up! Godspeed."

And away they galloped throughout the wet trees.

Sarah was deadly pale. Her chest was barely falling and rising at the rhythm of her loud and difficult breath. Sam stroked tenderly her hair, and took her little hand in his strong and calloused fingers. Joseph tore apart a part of her shirt to reveal plainly her wound. Sam felt like he was going to throw up. It didn't look very good...

"It's a flesh wound," Joseph reassured him as John was guiding the cart across the forest. "But she should have been treated before. Clearly, they didn't do anything except tying her up at this piece of wood!"

His voice usually so calm was shaking with fury, whilst Sam was merely closing his eyes, his jaws clenched.

"Will she be alright?" Hancock asked urgently, fear painted all over his face.

Joseph shook his head.

"I don't know, really, I don't know..."

* * *

When Paul entered into the house of John Adams, he knew the news were not good. Hancock was staring at the empty fireplace, Sam had his face buried in his hands, resting his elbows on the wooden table. Michael and James were looking absentmindedly by the window. John approached the two newcomers.

"Joseph and Abigail are still upstairs with her. We don't know anything for now," John Adams told Paul and Amos.

Paul glimpsed at Sam, and whispered at John, so that no one else would hear.

"How's Sam doing?"

John shrugged.

"Well, he hasn't drunk, nor broken anything yet. Definitely a good sign."

They exchanged a sad smile.

At this very moment, Abigail climbed down the stairs, carrying a bucket full of red water. Her dress was covered with blood as well. Everyone in the room stood up and turned towards her as one man.

"How is she?" Hancock asked her.

Abigail looked up at the circle of worried men before her.

"She hasn't woken up yet," she said slowly. "We cleaned her up, and Joseph sewed up the wound. He will soon come down, he's just finishing to apply her bandages, he will tell you more."

They had to wait another twenty minutes for the doctor to come downstairs as well.

The look on his face was worth a thousand words.

Sam thought he would simply crumble down to the ground.

"I have taken care of her wound as much as I could," Warren told them, his voice made hoarse by his tightened throat. "But she would have needed medical care earlier."

Sam stopped breathing.

"I don't know what is going to happen," Joseph said, his voice shaking. "The wound was not yet infected, but she lost too much blood. And she had had nothing to drink nor eat for two days. Under these circumstances, I am not sure of anything."

"But you must have an idea..." James insisted, tears wetting his eyes and tightening his throat.

Joseph shook his head, before clearing his throat, struggling to find back his voice.

"Everything will depend on this night I think. If she wakes up before dawn, then she might have a chance. If she doesn't..."

There was a deafening silence across the room. His words were too terrible for anyone to speak. Finally, Sam looked up at his friend.

"Can we see her?"

"She's not awake, Sam," he answered.

"I know. But can we see her anyway?"

Joseph stared at him for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"You can. It's better if there's someone with her anyway, in case she wakes up."

Sam didn't ask twice before climbing up the stairs, almost running. He had to see her... He flung the door open, and walked slowly inside the room. He sat down on the side of her bed, next to her, and took her hand in his.

Her eyes were closed, and except for the deadly white of her skin she looked like she was merely sleeping. Despite everything that had happened, she looked calm, and peaceful. But she was pale as sheet, and her lips were chapped with sunlight and thirst. Her chest was barely moving at all. Her fingers were like frozen. A tear rolled down Sam's cheek, and soon he was crying silently.

It was happening all over again... He knew this pale skin, he knew this coldness under his fingers, and this look of peace upon her face. His wife had had just the same when it had happened. And he couldn't live it again. He couldn't lose anyone he loved once more. This time, he wouldn't survive it, he knew it. He had never thought he could love anyone after his wife, and yet the scientist had proved him wrong. And slowly, a bit more every day, step by step, he had fallen for her. Because it was this truth his heart was yearning so desperately for. He loved her. He loved her with every fibre of his being. He loved her like he had never thought he could love. And he couldn't lose her.

He lifted her hand to his lips, before kissing softly her fingers. He held her fingers in both his hands, and rested his brow in her palm. He couldn't lose her...

"Sarah..."

His voice was no more than a begging whisper, shaking with tears.

"Sarah please, don't go."

He sniffed, struggling to control the sobs that he could feel rising inside of him.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can, then please... Please don't leave."

He closed his eyes even more tightly.

"Don't leave me..."

He heaved a deep sigh, and clenched his jaws.

"God, I'm so sorry... It's all my fault. I should have stayed there and fight. I should have been there for you. I shouldn't have listened to Paul and Hancock. I shouldn't have listened... It should have been me on this field, not you..."

He shook slowly his head, rubbing his forehand against her smooth palm.

"I know it's all my fault. I know it. And I know I have nothing to give you, I don't have money, nor a house, nor even a job... I know I am nothing. But I would do anything for you. If you want to go away, then I'll take you with me till we cross the border and disappear into the West. If you want to stay, then I'll build you myself the house I could never buy. I would do anything. I would kill, and die, and save, and live, and hate, and love... Anything, anything... Just name it, and I'll do it. But please, please don't go. Don't leave me here, don't leave me behind. I can't follow you there, not for now..."

He opened quickly his eyes, and set his dark glance upon her. And in his gaze there was all the tenderness in the world.

"I love you, Sarah."

He blinked, chasing away the tears, before staring at her again, his brow still resting against her palm, his fingers wrapped around hers.

"I love you with all my heart. I know, I should have told you this a long time ago. I should have told you how I felt when we still had time. But it seemed so impossible, you loving me back... Oh, but God knows how much I'm dying to love you. Let me love you, please... just give me a chance to show you..."

He closed his eyes again.

"Sarah, please, I love you..."


	27. Hearts Calling

**Hey guys!**

 **I'm so, so, SO sorry it took me so long to update this new chapter. University is so hard this year, I don't have any time to write. And this chapter being rather long, it didn't help.**

 **I can't tell you when I'm going to update the next chapter, again because of my studies, but I'll do my best to update as soon as possible.**

 **One scene was taken from the series in this chapter. And about the secret passage I mention in this chapter, it's only fictional of course, I have no idea if it existed in real.**

 **I hope you like this chapter, despite how long I was to upload it. Please, please, please, please... tell me what you think about it. Leave me a little review :)**

* * *

 **Hearts Calling**

It was night already. All day long, the soldiers had searched for the scientists and Samuel Adams. There was no trace of them anywhere to be found. General Gage had lost his best tool to get to Samuel Adams and the bunch of traitors that followed in his wake. He ran up the stairs of his house, throwing away his coat and his wig along the way. He felt so frustrated about all this, he had had Adams right at the tip of his pistol... but he had made a mistake and now he had escaped. Again. He heaved a frustrated sigh as he strode down a corridor. He had let the Colonist talk to him, he had lost some precious time, he should have just shot him there and then, and all of this would be over. And it had all started at Lexington and Concord...

And the General knew why he had failed to take the rebels there. Why they had defeated his men despite their training. Why they had had time to get organized, to hide their weapons before his Marines could arrive...

He opened the door of his wife's private room without taking the care to knock. The blond woman turned around, startled. She put a delicate hand on her breast, calming down. Her maid was there with her, helping her to undress for the evening. The servant immediately looked down at her feet.

" _You scared me,_ " Margaret told her husband.

Mary made a movement to walk out of the room, but Gage closed the door before she could reach it, and the look he threw to her froze her on the spot.

Gage took several steps towards the women, his cold gaze of steel now set upon his wife.

" _Your doctor..._ " he said slowly, stopping a few steps away from his wife and her maid. " _You've seen a lot of him._ "

Margaret struggled to keep her expression neutral. Next to her, she could feel Mary trembling, as she stood still next to the bed, looking at her feet as she always did when the General was near her.

" _You wouldn't happen to know who he was friendly with, would you?_ " Gage went on.

Mary thought she was about to cry. Next to her, Margaret merely shook her head, still calm, though her maid could see that the hand she was hiding from her husband was shaking. Gage went on.

" _Samuel Adams? John Hancock? Has your doctor ever mentioned either of those names?_ "

" _No,_ " Margaret denied. " _I wouldn't know anything about that I... I hardly knew the man._ "

She sat down before the fire, still facing her husband. But Gage was not fooled, and he walked to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"They escaped at Lexington, and I know why. They were warned we were coming for them. And I know who warned them. _I know it was you_."

The two women stared at him, and none of them could hide their horror anymore. Gage hold his wife's stare.

" _What have you done?_ " he breathed. " _Their blood is on your hands._ "

He stood straighter again, and looked at the terrified maid. Mary was shaking from head to toe.

"Both of you..." Gage said. "I know you're the one who carried the letter my wife must have written."

He looked at both the women before him, who were both too shocked to move.

" _Traitors..._ " he breathed.

And before any of the women could react, he had walked out of the room, and closed the door behind him. A loud click echoed through the room, and the two women looked at each other, horror making their eyes big and round. Margaret stood up, and walked to the door of her bedroom and desperately tried to open it, but there was nothing she could do.

Gage had locked the door, and they were both his prisoners now.

* * *

It had been hours. Hours since Sam had walked into Sarah's bedroom. Warren had said that the more time flew by without her waking up, the more her chances to open her eyes again faded, but Sarah was still sleeping.

Sam preferred to call it sleeping, though he knew it was not a mere dream that kept her from waking up.

For hours he had stared at her, sitting still next to her, holding her hand in his, begging her at first to come back to him, then surrendering to silence. He didn't even have the strength to talk anymore anyway.

Every few minutes, he would look outside, staring at the moon and the stars that moved slowly, and yet irrevocably throughout the sky. First, he had watched helplessly the sun setting and disappearing beyond the trees. Now, the moon seemed to follow its lead. It was high in the sky already. An orb of light that was as pale as Sarah's cheeks...

The door slowly opened, but Sam didn't make a single movement towards the newcomer. He merely kept staring at the woman before him.

"Anything?" Hancock asked him.

Sam merely shook his head.

"Do you want to sleep?" Hancock proposed kindly. "I can stay with her a few hours if you'd like, so you can rest."

Sam shook his head again.

"Sam, you need to sleep," Hancock insisted. "You've barely slept at all for days now..."

"I couldn't sleep anyway," Sam breathed.

Hancock walked closer to the bed. He silently stared at the scientist for a while, before resting his hand on Sam's shoulder. It was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but the way John rested on Sam's shoulder, as if to keep his balance, showed that it was also a silent praying for help. It was the gesture of a man who knows what the other is going through, but is too sad to take the other's sorrow to release the pain.

"What was in the letter?" Hancock finally asked.

Sam looked up at him.

"It's none of your business," he said.

But there was no animosity in his voice, it was only a sincere statement. But it wasn't enough for the merchant.

"Did she say anything about the rebellion?"

Sam shook his head, setting his stare on Sarah again.

"Did she say anything about the future?"

Again, Sam merely shook his head.

"Did... did she say anything about me?"

Sam looked up at him, throwing him a cautious look.

"No, she didn't," he answered.

John nodded, a little smile on his face.

"I hoped..." John confessed. "I hoped she would tell me if I were meant to die..."

"You're not going to die, John," Sam reassured him. "None of us is going to die."

And as he spoke these words, his gaze set itself on the woman before him.

John intensely looked at him for a while.

"It's not your fault, you know?" Hancock told him slowly, his voice barely audible in the dark room.

Sam heaved a sigh.

"It is my fault, John," he said through gritted teeth. "It should be me lying on this bed."

"It was her choice. She comes from the future, she knew what was about to happen in Lexington. That's why she gave me this note for you."

"It should have been me... I should have gone look for her, instead of fleeing like a coward."

"Sam, you're not a coward, and you know it."

"I should have stayed there and fought."

Hancock sighed again. He was about to speak once more, when a cry echoed throughout the house.

"Sam! Sam!"

Before any of the men could react, James and Michael were storming into the room.

"Sam! Sam, you've got to help me!" James cried.

Sam stood up.

"What's going on?" he asked.

James struggled to calm down.

"It's Mary..."

James showed him the shining device he held in his hand.

"...She's calling for help."

* * *

"It's a bad idea."

"We don't have a choice. We can't give up on her."

"It's a shitty idea."

James threw a desperate look at Sam and Warren.

"We can't leave her there, Paul," Joseph said slowly.

"You're talking about breaking into Gage's house!"

"No, _my_ house."

They all looked at Hancock.

"You're forgetting, Gentlemen, that Gage _stole_ my house," the merchant went on, his voice slow and calm despite how tightly he held on the arms of his chair. "And no one knows this house better than I do."

"We don't know where she is," Michael protested.

"She's friend with one of the cooks," James argued. "We could ask her."

"It's a bad idea."

"Michael, you can't be serious."

"It's too dangerous..."

"She's my wife! I can't leave her..."

"Sarah would never forgive me if I let you die."

The two men stared at each other for a while, and all along, no one in the room moved.

"You know what she would do, if she was here now," James replied slowly.

Michael clenched his jaws, but didn't argue.

"She would come with us to rescue Mary," James went on.

"I know, but she's not here," Michael replied.

"Michael..."

"She's not here. Because she decided to act like a moron and to run in the middle of a battlefield..."

"Watch your tongue."

Michael and Sam exchanged a glare.

"We can't abandon them," Warren breathed.

Sam cautiously looked at his friend.

" _Them_?"

"Don't you think that if Mary is in danger, then Margaret Gage is in danger as well?"

Sam slowly nodded, still staring at his friend.

"It is true then... What they say about you and Gage's wife," he breathed.

Warren looked down at the ground.

"I don't know what they say about us," Joseph answered cautiously.

"That you're in love with her."

Warren didn't say a word, but his silence was worth more than a thousand words.

"You can't come with us then," Sam told his friend. "If Gage knows about you and his wife, he will do anything to kill you."

"I don't know. I think he knows already, and yet I'm still breathing."

"We can't take the risk. Besides... You've got to stay here to take care of Sarah."

"Abigail can..."

"No. You're the physician here. You must stay."

Sam rested his hand on Joseph's forearm for a moment.

"Please. For me," Sam whispered. "I'm not a doctor. I am of no help to her. But you can save her. You're her only chance. I'll go save Margaret. You, you save Sarah."

Joseph nodded.

"I'll do my best."

"Just like you know I will do my best to save Gage's wife."

Sam's hand left Warren's arm, and he turned towards James again.

"We'll help you, James. We'll go save your wife."

* * *

"Why do you have to go? You're a lawyer, not a soldier."

"Abigail, my darling... They don't have enough men."

"You're not like that. You're not a soldier. You're not violent."

"I know."

"You can't go."

"Of course I can."

"You must not go."

"I must, on the contrary."

John Adams took his wife's face in his hands. Behind him, the sun was already setting. All day long, they had planned and prepared their mission. Many flaws were still staining their plans though, but they couldn't lose any more time. Of course, Abigail didn't need to know that.

"We can't ask for more men, we don't have time," he tried to explain to his wife. "We must act now."

"John..." she tried to protest, but he interrupted her.

"I will be just fine. Do not worry."

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"What would become of me if you didn't come back?" she breathed.

He held her close to him.

"I will come back. So, we won't have to find out. I promise I will come back."

He gave her a reassuring smile, before striding away and mounting his horse.

Sam walked out of the house, after having spent one more moment with Sarah. He smiled to Abigail.

"We will all be fine. Do not worry."

"That's what John keeps telling me," she mumbled.

"And he is right."

She hugged him.

"Please, bring my husband back to me. Whatever it may cost, just bring back my John safe and sound. He's not like you."

"I'll bring him home. I swear."

"Be careful."

Sam nodded, and walked away from the house. When he looked back to the wooden house, Warren was standing on the threshold with Abigail Adams. Sam's eyes drifted up to the window of Sarah's bedroom.

"We will come back, won't we?" his cousin asked him, tearing him away from his thoughts.

Sam looked at him.

"I hope so."

And without another word, Sam guided his horse towards the road, closely followed by James, Michael, Revere, Hancock and John Adams.

* * *

It was strange to come back to the Green Dragon. None of them had set a foot in the establishment since they had had to leave Boston in a hurry, months ago now. But the place didn't seem to have changed a bit. There was no one there though. They walked through the room and headed straight for the secret passage that led to the hiding place Sam - and later on the scientists - had used in the past, under the wooden floor. Amos was there, waiting for them.

"Everything is ready," he told them. "My men are positioned at Beacon Hill. Gage is gone. We sent words that you had been seen a few miles away from the city, Sam. It should hold him off long enough. As he is gone, the security on his house has been partly lifted."

"You mean _my_ house," Hancock mumbled.

James patted his shoulder.

"All in good time, John," he told the merchant. "For now, we must rescue Mary and Gage's wife."

"We still don't know how where the girls are in the house, though," Michael reminded them.

"The cook will help us," James answered, his voice full of trust and hope.

"What's her name again?"

"Iris."

"Weird name."

"I would have said beautiful."

"Please, don't start bickering," Paul admonished the two friends, a little smile curving up his lips.

"Where can we find her?" Sam asked James.

"She lives not far from here, I'll show you," the Englishman answered.

"Alright then. Let's go."

Amos handed them some pistols.

"I'll be down the street. My men will have an eye on you."

Sam patted his shoulder.

"I'm sure we can manage."

They walked out of the inn, and followed James down the streets. Their boots, drenched with dirty mud, were making a deafening sound through the calm night. There were no lanterns alit in the streets they walked through, and the moon and the stars were the only lights to guide their steps. The wind blew more strongly than before all of a sudden, and James shivered. He felt like he had fever. He didn't know if it was because of the cold, or the knot in his stomach.

It was not long before they reached the cook's house, a dirty, raw cube of wood that seemed like it could crumble at any second. James knocked at the door.

Once, twice, thrice, and still no answer.

"She's not here," Sam said.

"There was light upstairs, before we arrived," Revere replied. "Although, the light is gone now."

"She's scared I guess."

Paul turned to James.

"We're wasting our time here. She won't answer. She doesn't know you."

"I'll try again," James replied.

He knocked on the door once more, but there was still no answer, and no sound of any movement coming from the house either.

"She's our only chance to find Mary," James replied to Michael's silent question.

The door was suddenly flung opened, revealing the silhouette of a young woman drenched with shadows.

"You're friends of Mary's?" she asked, urgency shaking her voice.

"I'm her husband," James answered.

The woman let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God! She said you would come for her, but I had started to doubt..."

"Do you know where she is?" Sam asked her.

The woman froze, intensely staring at Sam.

"You're Samuel Adams, aren't you?"

It was Sam's turn to froze, and he saw Paul rest his palm on his pistol.

"I was in the square, when you escaped from Gage and his men," she said. "You did a good speech."

"Thanks," Sam answered, hesitative.

She turned to James again.

"Gage locked Mary and his wife in Mrs. Gage's bedroom. He gave orders not to open the door, except if he was with us and commanded us to do so," she went on. "I know which room it is they are in. I'll show you if you take me with you."

Sam shook his head.

"It's dangerous for you."

"And for us..." Paul added.

"You need a guide through the house."

"We don't really, I know the place perfectly myself," Hancock replied.

She finally noticed the merchant, and as she recognized him, she nodded her head.

"They are in the white bedroom, upstairs..."

"The one on the right, at the end of the corridor? The one with the broken doorknob?"

"Yes, that's it."

"I know which room it is," Hancock assured Sam. "I can take us there."

"Perfect. Let's go then," Sam answered. "We don't have a second to waste."

But the cook rested her hand on James's arm.

"Gage has the key..."

"Don't worry about that. A mere door is not going to stand in our way, trust me," James replied.

She smiled.

"Mary kept saying that you would come and save her. I can see why now. Good luck."

"Be careful with Gage."

She nodded, before closing the door of her house again.

"Let's go," Sam said again.

And they walked down the street, disappearing in the shadows.

* * *

"Are you certain we're at the right place?"

Hancock glowered at Paul.

"I created this passage myself... or well I asked that it would be built... anyway yes, I'm sure it's the right place."

Hancock searched for the entrance of the secret passage they would use to enter his house. But the shadows that covered the world were making it difficult for the merchant to find the trapdoor that would lead him and his companions into the cellar of the manor. And they were too scared of being noticed by Red Coats if they used some light. Above them, only the moon shone to help them in their search.

"Perhaps Gage found it, and closed it," James proposed.

"No, I know it's here somewhere," Hancock shook his head. "It's somewhere in the bushes..."

"Hancock, this is ridiculous," Paul complained.

"Give him a minute," Sam replied.

He walked to Hancock, and helped him searching for the wooden trapdoor.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he told the merchant, whispering so that none but Hancock could hear his words. "Because if you're wrong, we're all dead."

"I know what I'm doing, Sam."

"Good."

He rested his hand on the merchant's shoulder.

"Once we're inside, you stay behind me. Do you understand?"

Hancock nodded.

"Are you really protecting me?" he tried to joke, though his throat was tightened by fear.

"You're my friend John," Sam answered, and Hancock could hear that he was earnest. "Of course I try to protect you. Besides, I reckon I owe you one."

They exchanged a smile, before Sam's foot would fall on what sounded like wood...

"I think I've found your secret entrance," he smiled, before calling for his friends.

They were soon walking down a tunnel, the only light coming from a worn-out candle carried by Revere. It was wet, and muddy, and smelled like drenched earth and rotten fruits. Hancock almost fell more than once on the slippery ground. They were almost blind in the dark passage. It took them several minutes to reach the end of the tunnel and the wooden ladder. At the sight of the rotten wood, Sam couldn't help but think that the whole thing would crumble if they tried to use it to reach the hatch above their heads.

"This will lead us at the back of the cellar," Hancock whispered. "If they didn't move it, there's a chest upon the trapdoor."

"What if we can't open the hatch then?" John Adams asked.

"Why did you block the entrance anyway?" Michael asked.

"To conceal it of course," Hancock replied matter-of-factly. "But don't worry, we can open it. The chest is empty."

"You thought about everything, didn't you?" Sam said, and Hancock couldn't help but notice the sarcasm in his voice.

Sam climbed up the ladder, which didn't crumble under his weight despite how the wood bent under his feet, and pushed hard on trapdoor. But he couldn't find a way to lift it enough.

"See... you really did think about everything," he told Hancock in a shushed whisper.

Soon, Revere was climbing upon the ladder as well.

"Bloody ladder..." he cursed when his foot slipped upon the wet wood, and he hit his forehead against Sam's knee.

"You're okay?" Sam asked, pulling his friend up to his level.

"Yeah... Alright, at three we push. One, two, three..."

One, two, three tries, and finally Sam was able to slip his arms inside the cellar and to push the chest away.

"We're clear," he said after throwing a quick glance into the room. "There's no one here."

He helped his friends to climb into the room, and they closed the hatch again. They next headed to the door. Sam and Revere had taken out their pistols.

Sam rested his palm upon the doorknob, his heart racing in his chest. They didn't know where the Red Coats who guarded the house whilst Gage was away were. They could step on one of them at any moment. It was an awful idea... Sam had only thought in his mind.

He hoped he would see Sarah again...

He opened the door.

* * *

She was first aware of the feeling of bed sheets under her palms. It was hard for her to breathe, it required an effort from her to let the air fill up her lungs, and then to let it out. Sam's face in the square, standing before Gage, two Red Coats holding him, was all her mind could form on her closed eyelids. The only image that seemed to be tattooed to her brain. A wave of panic shook her entire body.

How could he have survived this encounter with Gage?

She fell a tear roll down her cheek, wetting her skin. She finally realized that she was cold. Shivers ran up her arms.

She wanted to get back to this slumber that kept her away from this realization that Sam was probably dead. She wanted to forget everything about this world around her, about the war, about History, about Science, about Sam in this square...

Suddenly, she could feel something warm and soft on her shivering arm.

A hand...

"Sarah? Can you hear me?"

She recognized the voice instantly.

"Sarah?" Warren called again. "Can you hear me? If you can, please, open your eyes."

A second tear rolled down her cheek. She didn't want to open her eyes, she didn't want to learn that Sam was dead because of her, because he had saved her life...

But on the other hand, she knew she wanted to know what had happened in that square...

"Sarah, come back to us. Come on, I know you're strong enough to do this."

She wanted to know, she was dying to know...

Her eyelids fluttered, and opened.

"Here you are," Warren breathed, and she could see tears shining in his eyes.

It felt like her tongue was made of sand. She couldn't find the strength to talk. She gathered all the strength left in her to form a single word.

"Sam..."

* * *

They had reached the hall now, without being noticed. John Adams reckoned it was a hell of a miracle.

"Hancock?" Sam asked the merchant right behind him. "Where now?"

"Upstairs, and one the right," Hancock answered.

Luckily, all fires were gone, and only the moon shone into the room. Sam reckoned that if his eyes could not distinguish any guard through the veil of darkness surrounding them, then the Red Coats couldn't see them either.

Outside, the sound of bells ringing midnight echoed throughout the cold air.

They started to climb up the stairs.

Still no one around...

Hancock tapped Sam's shoulder once they had reached the first floor, indicating him to turn right, and then right again. They were walking cautiously, slowly, their pistols at the ready, their backs against the walls.

There was no sound at all now that the bell was once more silent.

A few meters more, and Hancock signalled him to turn right once more. But Sam froze, hiding behind the corner. He risked a glance over the edge of the wall.

There was a Red Coat before the room where Margaret Gage and Mary were locked in.

Sam took a deep breath, he had only a few seconds before the guard would see him and understand enough the situation to shoot him. At such a distance, Sam would have no chance of survival if the soldier was able to take aim at him, and he knew it. He couldn't dare to think about what would happen to his friends if the soldier fired, alerting all the other Red Coats around the house that there were intruders in the General's house.

Sam walked pass the wall and ran to the Red Coat. He saw him looking up at him, and he saw as realization glimmered in the soldier's eyes. It was slow-motion to Sam, the running, the look in soldier's eyes, the movement of the rifle being raised towards him...

But he had to do what had to be done...

* * *

"Where's Sam?!"

Warren could see panic shining in her eyes. Earnest panic. He was afraid Sarah would hurt herself when he saw her trying to sit up despite how exhausted she was.

"Sam is alright," he reassured her, gently pushing her back down on the mattress. "Sam's fine."

"But Gage..."

"We had planned everything," Warren interrupted her. "He escaped smoothly, and was unhurt. I promise."

She sighed in relief, and he saw two more tears escaping from underneath her now closed eyelids.

"Merci mon dieu..." she breathed in French, feeling a weight being lifted from her heart.

She looked up at Warren again.

"Can I see him?" she asked shyly.

Joseph slowly shook his head.

"He's not here."

"Where is he?"

"He's gone with the others."

"You mean... with James, Michael...?"

"Paul, Hancock and John Adams went with him as well."

"But where are they gone?"

Joseph nervously looked down at her tired face. But he knew her enough to be aware that she would not stop asking questions if he didn't give her satisfying answers.

"They're gone to save Mary and Gage's wife."

Her eyes grew round in horror, but Warren continued, making sure that she would understand what was going on.

"They're gone to Beacon Hill."

* * *

When the butt of his pistol hit the soldier's head hard, and he felt the Red Coat falling upon him, Sam knew he was safe now. He caught the guard before he could fall on the floor, and silently put him down on the carpet. The others soon joined him before the door.

"We don't have the key," Sam whispered.

"We'll break the door then," James answered.

"The second we will have broken the door, every Red Coat in the house will run up here," John Adams replied.

"We don't have a choice," Sam said, and his tone was one that would accept no arguments. "We haven't come here for nothing."

He took a step back, and kicked the door open.

Margaret Gage couldn't refrain a cry, but the second James stepped into the room, Mary shushed her.

"James!" she whispered, rushing into his arms.

He held her close to him.

"I knew you'd come for me," she breathed.

"I would do anything for you, Mary," James whispered against her ear.

But suddenly, there was noise downstairs. Hurrying footsteps climbing up the staircase...

"You shouldn't have come here," Gage's wife said, now that she recognized the intruders, and she turned to Sam. "If my husband finds you here, he will have you killed this time."

"We'd better get out of here before he has the chance to kill me then," Sam replied.

He walked out of the room, holding tightly his pistol in his hand...

... and found himself facing a Red Coat.

* * *

"What do you mean? Why would he be at Beacon Hill?"

"Sarah, you must calm down."

"How could you have let him go there?! If Gage finds him..."

"He won't find him."

"How do you know that?"

Warren turned towards the door.

"ABIGAIL!" he shouted, calling for John Adams's wife. "She's awake!"

They heard hurrying footsteps coming down the corridor.

"You must go and bring him back here safe and sound," Sarah went on, grabbing the doctor's hand.

Colours had been coming back to her cheeks these past hours, but now, it seemed that they were gone again. Joseph could see that she struggled to keep her eyes opened.

"You need to calm down now, Sarah. You're still very weak."

"But Sam..."

"He'll be just fine."

Abigail Adams finally stormed into the room, carrying two candles.

"How do you feel, dear?" she asked Sarah with a soft and kind voice.

But Sarah's eyelids were falling down on her beautiful blue eyes once more.

"Sarah! Stay with us!" Joseph called her.

Her eyes closed.

"Sam..."

* * *

"SAM!"

He had barely the time to register what was going on around him and he was dragged back inside the bedroom by a pair of strong hands.

He felt a bullet fly close to his cheek, and landing into a vase, sending shreds of porcelain flying throughout the corridor.

"You're okay?" asked a panicked Michael.

"I'm fine," Sam mumbled.

Paul and James barricaded the door, but already the Red Coats were trying to get into the room. They could hear the violent punches on the door.

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"What do we do?" Paul asked.

Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

"What do we do, Sam?" John Adams asked as well.

"I..." Sam breathed.

The door almost gave way, despite the table and the chairs that Paul and James had thrown against it, and the two men tried to block it, pushing upon the wooden surface.

"We're going to die..." Hancock breathed.

"Don't be stupid!" Michael snapped back.

But in his chest, his heart was beating so fast...

 _Bang! Bang! BANG!_

"Sam... What do we do now?" his cousin urged him one more time.

"I... I don't know," he answered earnestly.

It was true, he had no idea what to do. Only one thought was on his mind, preventing him to properly think about a solution to get himself and his friends out of this bedroom.

There was only one image before his eyes. He couldn't even really see Paul and James trying to maintain the door closed. There was only one thing on his mind...

...Sarah.

* * *

"Abigail, bring me my suitcase, right away!"

Joseph's voice sounded so far away. Sarah distinguished the sound of running footsteps, but it was nothing but a whisper to her.

"Sarah, stay with me."

Joseph's voice was so far away...

"Stay with me, Sarah."

So far away...

"Perfect, now Abigail, have some water ready for her. She needs to drink."

She didn't even care about Warren, there was only one thing on her mind, one fear that made her heart both race and stop under her ribs.

"Sarah, open your eyes."

Only one thought...

"Goddamn, we're losing her again!"

... he was all she could see on her closed eyelids...

"Sarah!"

...Sam.

* * *

Sam jumped at the sound of gunshots coming from outside the house.

"Holy shit!" Michael cursed. "That must be the men Amos was talking about."

"Bless them!" Hancock sighed.

Sam was finally brought back to reality. He walked to the window, and watched the flashes of the detonations piecing the night and echoing all around the mansion.

"We won't hold for long," Paul stated, out of breath.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to pierce the darkness. He could have sworn he had seen something moving there, in the shadows.

"Sam... Now would be the right time to have a wonderful idea," Hancock told him.

Suddenly, Sam was opening the window.

"What are you doing? Are you mad...?" Michael tried to stop him.

"It's Amos," Sam merely answered, nodding towards the field before him.

Michael finally recognized their friend as he guided a cart full of hay towards the window.

"You've got to jump!" he shouted.

"You must be joking..." Hancock breathed.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"SAM!"

James fell backwards onto the ground, holding his bleeding nose, and Sam rushed to the door, pushing with all his strength upon the breaking piece of wood.

"You all go!" he ordered. "Jump!"

"Sam, we can't leave you behind..." Michael protested.

"You're not leaving me anywhere. I'm following close. Just jump in the cart, now! John, go," he added to his cousin.

John Adams sighed, before stepping before the window, looking down at the cart. It wasn't too high, two or maybe three meters, he could do this...

"Now, John!"

And John Adams jumped into the hay.

* * *

Now, she could barely breathe again.

"What's happening to her?" Abigail asked Warren.

"She's panicking," he answered.

"About what?"

He opened a bottle, and passed it several times under Sarah's nose, trying to bring her back to her senses.

"What did you tell her?" Abigail insisted. "Why is she panicking?"

Warren sheepishly looked up at her.

"Sam..."

* * *

Now they had all jumped safely into the cart. The gunshots were closer to the house though...

"Paul, go! I'll hold them off!" Sam ordered.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"No, you're the one who's important in this," Revere protested.

"Paul, please..."

They exchanged a glance.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"For once, just do what I ask from you, without trying to play the hero," Paul told him.

"You must go Paul. Please, you must go. I'll follow you straightaway."

Paul could see in his friend's dark eyes that there were no words he could speak to make him change his mind.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"Shit, Sam!"

But he ran to the window anyway, and jumped over the windowpane and into the hay.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Alone, Sam knew he could only hold a few more seconds.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

He could see Sarah's face again.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

If he survived to this, and if she woke up, he would tell her how he felt. He promised himself that he would.

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

No matter what they were meant to be, that they should have never found each another, that they were different in so many ways...

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Sam knew they were also the same, and despite all odds they had met that day in the square when she had come out of nowhere and changed everything in his life, and deep in his heart he knew they belonged together...

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

He made a vow to himself...

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

... if he survived this, he would tell her how much he loved her.

He started to count down in his head, preparing himself to run and jump through the window.

Three...

* * *

"She's barely breathing!" Abigail cried.

"Sarah! Can you hear me!" Joseph called, trying to feel her pulse on her wrist.

"What do we do?"

* * *

Sam almost fell to the ground as a particularly strong soldier hit the door.

...Two...

* * *

"Sarah, if you can hear me... Sam will be alright, don't worry about him."

Her heart was racing so fast, he could feel her pulse beating at such a speed...

"You need to calm down, Sarah."

Abigail put a wet cloth on Sarah's forehead.

"Calm down, breathe deep. Come back to us."

* * *

 _BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Sam closed his eyes, and he could have sworn Sarah was before him, smiling.

...One...

He opened his eyes again, and set his dark stare upon the window.

...Zero...

And he ran to the window, the door opening almost instantly after he had released the pressure upon it, and jumped off the window.

* * *

"Sarah, you must calm down. I know you can survive all this, please," Joseph went on. "Don't do it for History, nor for duty, just do it for your friends. Do it for all these people who care about you. Do it for me, do it for James and Michael..."

A tear rolled down her cheek once more, and he saw her eyelids fluttering. Joseph took a deep breath.

"Do it for Sam."

* * *

"Sam, you're alright?"

Sam nodded reassuringly, patting Hancock's shoulder. Next to them, Paul, James, Michael and John Adams were firing at the soldiers above and around them. Mary and Margaret were lying on the hay, their arms upon their heads, trying to protect themselves as well as they could.

"Let's go! We're all here!" Hancock cried.

He made his way next to Amos at the front of the cart, and helped him control the horses. Sam reached for his pistol, took aim, and shot...

... a soldier fell on the ground.

The cart was now heading for the road next to Beacon Hill, though Amos didn't intend to use the road, has he soon proved by cutting throughout a field.

The more Amos and Hancock were guiding them away from the mansion, the less the soldiers were near them. Soon, no one was shooting at them anymore. Sam heaved a sigh of relief.

They were all safe...

And then the thought of Sarah lying in this bed came back to his mind once more.

* * *

Warren heaved a sigh of relief.

"She's calming down," he told Abigail.

Soon, Sarah's eyes were opened again.

"You need to rest, Sarah," John instructed her. "I'm sure Sam and the others will soon be back. I'll warn you when they arrive."

"Sam can't die... Nor can James and Michael... And Paul and John..."

"It's okay. They'll all come back safe and sounds, I'm sure."

Sarah nodded, too tired to protest.

And once more, she closed her eyes, but this time, she knew she would open them again at dawn.

* * *

Sam finally opened the door of his cousin's house, and let Margaret walk into the house, holding the door for her. He could hear hurried footsteps stumbling above his head, and soon the doctor was running down the stairs with Abigail Adams.

"Margaret!" he cried, holding the blond woman tightly in his arms. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head against his shoulder.

"They saved me," she breathed.

James and his wife walked into the house as well, closely followed by John Adams, Hancock and Paul.

Abigail held closely her husband in her arms.

"I cannot believe you did something so stupid and dangerous!" she exclaimed.

Her voice was shaking, and when he looked into her eyes, John could see the coloured orbs clouded by tears. She smiled, before kissing him hard on the lips, carefree of the amused looks their friends were throwing at them.

After all, they were all safe now...

Warren turned to Sam.

"She's awake," he said.

Sam froze, breathless.

"She'll be just fine, Sam," the physician went on, smiling reassuringly. "She woke up during the night. She's been worried sick about you. You should go see her. But be careful, she's very weak still."

Sam didn't wait for another second, and rushed up the stairs. He strode, almost ran to the scientist's room, and opened the door, without even knocking. And on the threshold, he froze.

Sarah looked up at him. He could read fear and worry in her eyes for a moment, but soon, all anguish was gone from her infinite blue gaze, and a smile formed on her face.

"Sam!"

Sam couldn't believe his eyes. He was so scared that he could be dreaming, that he would wake up and make all this hope and joy disappear if he took one more step towards her... He was terrified and mesmerized all at the same time.

Sarah made a movement to sit up in the bed, holding her torso, but Sam quickly walked into the room to stop her from moving.

"No! Don't move."

He strode towards the bed, and gently pushed her back on her pillow. When his fingers touched her shoulder, and that he didn't wake up, he was so shocked that he remained motionless for a moment, merely staring down at the woman before him. He could feel her warmth under his fingers, and after all these hours spent holding her frozen hand, he felt like it was a miracle of some kind...

But then, _she_ was a miracle to him...

He took her hands in his, his vision blurred with tears.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, unable to control his shaking voice.

"I'll be just fine," she answered. "What about you? What happened?"

She stared at him with eyes as wet as his, and he could read both relief and sorrow on her face.

"I was so scared, Sam... I thought I was about to lose you."

Sam shook his head, and brushed away the tear that ran down her cheek. He wanted so badly to hold her in his arms... but he was afraid to hurt her if he did. So he merely stroked her cheek tenderly instead.

"You're not going to lose me, Sarah. I'm too hard to kill anyway."

She let out a small laugh, as more tears were running down her face. Sam bit his tongue, struggling not to cry as well. After a while, she stopped crying, and Sam took both her hands in his again.

He had promised himself he would tell her what he felt for her if he had a second chance to do so, if she woke up... But he could see how upset and exhausted she was. It wasn't the right time, and he knew it. He wanted to do things the right way. He wanted to confess everything when she would feel better, when she would be calm and focused. He wanted to tell her outside, under a cherry tree, or in a ray of moonlight, or lost in a field with sunlight bathed in her hair, not in this bedroom where he had almost lost her. He wanted to do things right...

"What happened then? Did you save Mary and Margaret?" she asked.

Sam sit down on the bed next to her, his fingers still tightly wrapped around hers, discarding the chair behind him, and he quickly told her what had happened since he had left his cousin's house.

"I'm glad you're all safe," she breathed.

He could see that she was fighting hard not to close her eyes.

"You should rest," he said. "You're not healed yet."

"Joseph says I could probably stand tomorrow," she told him.

"But for now, you need to sleep."

She tightened her grip on his hands, staring deep into his dark eyes.

"Don't go just yet," she breathed, her eyes larger now, as if she was afraid.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sam reassured her.

He tenderly caressed her cheek again, the back of his fingers brushing her skin as lightly as a feather. She shuddered under his touch.

"You need to sleep now, Sarah," he insisted. "Close your eyes, I'm staying with you. I'll stay, I promise."

Slowly, she let her eyelids fall, and a second later, she was fast asleep.

When Michael walked silently to the door of the room, and saw Sam watching her as she peacefully slept, holding both her hands in his, he merely turned around, and walked back downstairs to celebrate with the others.

Now, they were all safe after all.

* * *

The next day indeed, Sarah was able to stand by herself. Sam, Michael, James, Warren and Hancock accompanied her downstairs, Sam and the doctor holding each one one of her arms to prevent her from falling. They walked for a while around the house, at dusk, but after half an hour, she was feeling weaker again, and they accompanied her back to the house, despite her protests.

"You are not healed yet, Sarah," Joseph told her with an amused smile. "You need to rest still. Tomorrow morning, I'm sure you'll be able to stand much longer."

"Can I at least sit now, and eat with you all?" she asked him.

Warren sighed. He could understand her annoyance at lying down on her bed all day long, but he didn't want her to make too many efforts just yet.

"If you go to bed right after you've finished your meal, then yes. I'll ask Abigail to bring you a pillow to rest your back against the chair."

"Thanks."

"Are you sure your bed would not be more comfortable?" Hancock asked her.

"John's right," Michael added. "You should rest."

"I'm fine," Sarah reassured her. "But I'm sick of lying down..."

No word that they could speak could make her change her mind, and to be honest, none of them was surprised. Their friend had always been rather stubborn after all.

They had not eaten merrier meal for a long time. All were together, all the people who were dearest to every one of them was around the table. Only Benjamin Franklin was missing, but they had received letters from him the very morning, and so they all felt like he was a bit with them anyway. Sarah was still a bit pale, but she was merry and smiling, and her laugh brought such a light in the room that it seemed to all who were gathered around her that the sun hadn't shone for a very long time upon their life.

Finally, night had fallen onto the world, and at the light of the burning candles, Hancock and Sam helped Sarah to reach her bedroom again.

"Do you need anything?" Sam asked her, helping her to lie down on the bed.

"I'm fine, Sam. Thank you."

"If you need anything..."

"I just have to call, I know," she interrupted him with an amused smile.

"Don't try to stand on your own. You are weak still. I'm not sure you could walk down the stairs without help," he insisted.

She rested her head on her pillow, and Sam covered her with a warm blanket. Spring was slowly invading the countryside, but the nights were still cold. By the window, Sarah could see the moon clouded with fog.

"Good night, Sarah," Sam said softly, brushing a lock of her dark hair away from her face.

They exchanged a smile.

"Good night, Sam," she answered.

Sam turned around, and Hancock bid the scientist good night as well, but she called for the merchant before he could walk out of the room.

"John, can I talk to you? Just for a minute?"

"Of course."

"Alone?"

John frowned, and turned around, looking at Sam, who was frowning as well. But Sam didn't say a word, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"What is it, Sarah?" John asked her, coming closer to her bed again.

Her expression was one of concern all of a sudden, she seemed worried, and John took her hand in his in a reassuring gesture, as he would have done with a young child who's afraid of the dark.

"What is it?"

"You..." she stuttered. "I'd like to... to get back this letter I gave you. You know? The one for Sam?"

Hancock seemed quite lost.

"But... I can't give it back to you."

"Why? Did you lose it?"

"No, of course not. But I already gave him."

Her eyes grew wide in horror.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice shaking.

She was paler all of a sudden, and the merchant was scared it was her wound.

"Do you want me to call for Joseph?" he asked her. "You're very pale."

"No, I'm fine."

"Is your wound painful again?"

"No... No John, it's not that."

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. She sighed.

"I'm sorry if I did something wrong," John said softly, wishing to calm her down.

"You did nothing wrong, John. I just thought... that you wouldn't give him the letter before I was... dead."

Hancock shrugged.

"He was upset, and you... you've always had a good influence on him."

She gave him a sad smile, tears shining in her eyes. She chased the salty waters away, hating herself for crying so easily these days. She guessed it was just an after-effect of Gage and Lexington.

"You asked me to give him if something happened to you. We didn't know if we would be able to save you..." Hancock went on.

"It's okay, John. Thank you, for remaining true to your word," she interrupted him, smiling again.

"You should rest now," he said.

She nodded, looking out by the window, staring at the moon.

"Thank you, John," she repeated.

Hancock nodded, wishing her a good night of sleep again, and he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving her lost in thought.

Sam knew...

* * *

She couldn't sleep. How could she? Way too many thoughts were buzzing in her head. She was struggling against herself.

Sam hadn't spoken a word about her letter. She didn't know if it was merely because he wanted her to feel better before speaking about such an important subject, or if...

...or if he just didn't care.

Perhaps he just didn't feel the same, and was hoping she wouldn't learn about the fact that he had read her letter. Perhaps he just wanted to forget everything about it, and to act with her as a friend, and nothing more.

Or perhaps he was just scared of telling her what he felt? After all, there had been a few electric moments between them. Intense, earnest moments where they had been connected together, these intimate instants that had made her heart race into her chest, and her skin tickle and... and all these feelings that exploded within her every time he was near her. And she had thought that he knew about these moments, that he could recognize them just like she did. That he knew about time freezing, and the world disappearing around them. She couldn't believe that he had never felt that something was happening between them during these precious instants, like invisible forces pushing them towards each other to make them collide and explode. She didn't expect him to love her though...

She heaved a sigh. She had no idea what to do, what to think, and it was driving her crazy. How could she sleep? She knew she would not find rest that night.

She slowly sat up, then stood up carefully, holding her side, but no pain came with her movements, and she managed to reach the door, then the stairs, and finally she walked out of the house. The air was cold on her skin, she hadn't grabbed a coat when she had walked through the hall, and the coolness of the breeze was reddening her cheeks. But she didn't care. She sat down in the armchair next to the front door, and looked up at the stars, losing herself in her thoughts again.

She started when the door opened next to her only a few moments later. She froze at the sight of the man standing next to her.

"Sarah? What are you doing here?"

Sam quickly closed the door. He saw the shivers on her forearms, and he took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.

"I told you not to get downstairs alone," he admonished. "Come, it's cold outside. You must rest."

"I can't sleep," she answered with a shy tone.

She seemed so fragile like this, wrapped in his warm coat, drops of moonlight caught in her hair, her big blue eyes reflecting the thousands lights of the stars above them. He could read fear and worry in her eyes, and refrained tears as well, as if she tried to look strong whilst inside, she was crumbling down.

He knew this expression well, he had had the same for years...

And then she had walked into his miserable life and acted like a hurricane. The only storm he had ever been happy to welcome into his life...

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

He kneeled down next to her, and held her hand in his. He stroke the back of her fingers with his thumbs, and his caress was so gentle... he was always so gentle with her...

"I..." she stuttered.

She took a deep breath, losing her soul in his dark eyes. Sam was motionless, mesmerized by her stare.

"Did you read it?" she breathed, her voice nothing but a hesitant whisper.

Sam's heart stopped.

"Read what?" he breathed, though he knew perfectly what she meant.

"The letter I wrote. The letter I gave John for safekeeping."

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. He hadn't imagined to tell her this way, and he wasn't sure how to tell her. He wasn't sure it was the right time...

But then he saw it, there, hidden in the depth of her eyes, this truth he had yearned for for so long, this truth he couldn't deny anymore, this truth he should have seen years before.

There were no right nor wrong times, only love...

"Yes," he simply answered.

The beating of her heart was so erratic, she wondered why she was not having a heart attack.

He shushed her when she opened her mouth to speak, resting his palm against her lips.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for everything."

She felt tears blurring her vision, but she refrained them.

She had been right, he didn't feel the same, and he was about to tell her he was sorry for hurting her... she was sure of it. She regretted to have brought this all up...

"I should have told you how I felt long ago, years ago..." he went on, and he saw her expression changing, hope forming now in her eyes instead of sorrow. "I've known for years... If I'm being honest with myself, I've always known. Since the very first second I laid my eyes on you."

He could see shock in her gaze now, and he moved his hand from her mouth to her cheek, and up to her hair, cradling her head in his hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "But I didn't think you could feel the same. So I just... thought it was better for everyone if I didn't speak a word about all these things I feel for you. I can see now I was wrong. But you were supposed to go and... and I didn't want to break your heart, and I didn't want you to break mine. Do you understand? I think you do, I think that's why you didn't tell me anything either. Am I wrong?"

Sarah was too overwhelmed to answer anything. Sam suddenly stood up, and he helped her to stand as well.

"I will never be able to give you a comfortable life," Sam went on. "I'm poor, I've always been. I can't promise you a safe, quiet life in a little house. I don't have much to give, except for my heart and soul... if you wish to make them yours."

She gasped.

"I... I never thought... this could be possible..." he went on, stuttering. "But I don't think I can hold all this back anymore."

Somehow, the space between them had shrunk, and their faces were barely a few inches apart now. He was holding her upper arms, and she rested her hands upon his as well.

"Sarah... I..."

He couldn't manage to breathe anymore.

"I..." he stuttered again."I've got to tell you..."

She pleaded him with her eyes to speak his mind. And suddenly, there were no insurmountable walls to jump, and the words formed on his tongue before he could even properly think them.

"I love you, Sarah."

Another gasp escaped her, but he didn't pay much attention to it, and went on.

"I love you, Sarah. And I always will."

He ran a hand through her hair, and cradled her neck in his palm.

"Let me love you," he begged her. "Let me try, at least. I'd do anything for you, and you know it. But just a word from you, and I'll stop now. Despite how badly I want this, despite how I've wanted this for years..."

She looked up at him, staring at his dark eyes. And he could see she didn't want him to stop.

And then all form of thoughts left his mind, and he kissed these lips he had dreamt to kiss so many times before, and he held her close to him like he had imagined to do every night for years, and he ran his hands through her smooth hair that seemed to always be calling for his fingers, and...

And as he kissed her under the moonlight, there was no time, nor world around them, just two pairs of tender and eager lips pressed against each other. And they both knew that this would be the only thing they would ever need from now on.

It was a thousand times more extraordinary than what they had dreamt...

When they finally unsealed their lips, gasping for air, he felt her hold on him tightening, and the pair of arms she had wrapped around his neck was now pulling him down... He guessed her knees were weakening.

"Are you alright?" he urgently asked her.

She nodded.

"I'm fine, Sam. My head is spinning a bit, that's all."

"You're tired, you should go back to bed," he said.

She grinned.

"It's not my wound, Sam," she said. "It has nothing to do with my wound. It's just because of this..."

And before he could speak another word, she had pressed her lips to his again.


	28. Meetings

**I'm back with a new chapter!**

 **First of all, thank you so much to , who left a review for chapter 27. Buddy, I love you. Thank you so much. It had been months since I had had any feedback on this fic, and I was really starting to be depressed. That was so kind, thank you so much. But I have to say that I'm awfully jealous, if your History teacher shows you Sons of Liberty... Hell, why were my History teachers not as cool as yours...**

 **One scene was taken from the series here.**

 **I'll do my best to update a new chapter as soon as possible. My year at University was very tough, but I'm on an internship now, I hope I'll have more time to write.**

 **I hope you like this chapter, and please, don't forget that receiving a review is the best thing an author on this website can ever receive. So please, leave me a review and tell me what you thought about this chapter :)**

* * *

 **Meetings**

When she woke up in his arms the next morning, both of them wrapped in his long coat, sitting in the chair before his cousin's house, she couldn't help but feel like she was still asleep, lost in her dream but somehow aware of the world around her. She didn't know if the previous night was real or just a fantasy. It was a strange thing to think about, after all these years...

Sam made a movement under her, and she lifted her head to let him move more freely. He opened his eyes, still drenched with sleep, and when his dark gaze met her blue stare, he couldn't help but smile.

He ran a hand through her dark hair.

"Good morning, Sarah."

She shuddered at the sound of his voice, husky with sleep.

"Good morning, Sam," she whispered back.

A silence. A pair of blue eyes fixed on dark ones. His hand lost in her hair...

For a second, there was no time anymore. Even time had to stop to look at such a scene.

"Last night..." Sam whispered softly, his voice low, almost shy. "Did it really happen?"

She nodded.

"I think so."

"It feels like it was a dream. Just one more dream... I've had so much of the kind these past few years..."

"I don't think it was a dream, Sam. I think it was a real."

He cupped her cheek. His skin was calloused and rough against her soft cheek, but he held her face with such tenderness that she felt shivers running down her spine.

"Or perhaps it's just that we're still asleep right now. It would explain why you are still in my arms," he said.

She approached her lips from his, and she felt him gasping under her.

"Even if we're asleep, it doesn't matter. It's a good dream all the same."

It was his time to approach his lips.

"I would still prefer it to be true, though," he breathed, and she could feel the air escaping his lungs on her face.

She smiled.

"Me too."

She ran her hands in his hair, and rested her brow against his, closing her eyes.

"It took us too long to let go..."

"Everything needs time..."

But she shook her head.

"It's been there for so long..."

"It's a bad idea."

She looked at his eyes again.

"I know."

"We're not supposed to be together," he went on, and she could see he was deadly serious, she could read hesitation in his eyes.

"I know."

"You're not even from here, from now..."

"I know."

"We shouldn't be together."

"I know."

He struggled to swallow, and cleared his throat. But his voice was nothing more than a whisper when it passed his lips.

"Then why are we feeling this way?"

"I don't know."

His thumb kept caressing her cheek. Their voices were whispers lost in the first rays of the rising sun. Behind them, the sky was on fire.

"I don't feel," he went on, "like we are doing something wrong."

"Me neither."

"But we are somehow."

She shook her head.

"To love can't be doing something wrong, Sam."

"It will break our hearts."

"I'm not so sure. I'm not leaving anymore."

He slowly nodded, brushing his nose against hers in the process.

"I don't reckon your friends will take the news very well though," he added, and there was bitterness in his voice all of a sudden.

"You mean Michael ?"

"Yes."

"I know."

"Do you think we should wait before telling the others?"

"Wait for what?"

"That you feel better, that all of this has settled down..."

"I don't want to hide this..."

He rested his forehead against hers, and they both closed their eyes. He slowly nodded.

"As you wish..."

"I've not waited for so long to hide."

Sam suddenly smiled.

"What is it?" Sarah asked him, curious.

"Nothing, we are slow ones, that's all."

"I guess we are, yes," she chuckled.

"Sarah..." he breathed, looking at her eyes once more, and his tone was serious again, and his smile had disappeared. "Sarah I need you to know..."

She drowned in his dark gaze. There was all the sincerity of the world in these black orbs...

"You must not think I'm not sincere because it took me so long. I was just scared of... you leaving, and hurting you, and that you could reject me..."

She shushed him, resting her fingertips on his lips.

"I do believe you, Sam," she breathed.

He kissed the skin that rested upon his mouth, and she couldn't help but shudder.

"I love you," she whispered.

He freed his lips from her hand, and pulled her down to him, his movements soft and loving.

"I love you, Sarah," he breathed.

And he kissed her lips one more time... The previous night, they had lost count of their kisses.

They merely hoped that they would have the occasion to lose count all over again...

And as they were kissing, careless of the world around them, of the burning sky, and the singing birds, and the fields covered with fog, none of them noticed the silhouette watching them by the window.

Michael clenched his fists, and merely turned around, heading back to his bedroom, without another look at the kissing couple outside.

* * *

Sam led Sarah back to her room before the rest of the house was awake. If none of them intended to keep their relation a secret, they didn't want to be caught red-handed either. He helped her lying back in her bed, and covered her with a warm blanket.

"You should rest," he said, making her roll her eyes.

"I'm fine, Sam. Besides, I'm not going to stay here in this bed forever."

"But for now, you must heal."

He dropped a tender kiss on her brow.

"You'll get downstairs to walk later this morning, if you want to. It's a beautiful day," he added, nodding towards the window next to her bed, showing her the cloudless sky.

She nodded, letting him kiss her brow again.

"I'll come back later to see you," he said, before striding to the door, and leaving the room...

... to find himself face to face with Michael.

A very angry Michael...

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked.

Sam winced at the sound his aggressive tone.

"Of course," Sam mumbled.

"Right now."

And before Sam could answer, he was dragged into Michael's bedroom.

"Michael, what's going on?" Sam asked him carefully, though he knew perfectly what all this was about.

He could see the same look in Michael's eyes he had seen glimmering the day the scientist had warned him and ordered him to stay away from Sarah. Only now, there were sparks in his eyes, and his voice was frozen...

"I thought I had been clear, about Sarah and you..."

Sam closed his eyes, wincing.

"Michael..."

"I told you not to try anything..."

"Michael, you don't know anything about what's going on between me and Sarah..."

"I saw you two together this morning. Since when has this been going on between the two of you."

"Only last night..."

"Don't you dare try to lie!"

"I'm not lying."

The two men stared at each other for a moment, both of them perfectly still.

"I told you not to try to love her..." Michael repeated.

"If you think for a second that I had planned all this..."

"I'm taking her home."

There was a silence, as Michael let his words sink in.

"I'll do whatever I have to do to take her home safe and sound. And despite what John and her seems to believe, _this_ is _not_ our home. We were not meant to come here."

"Sarah says..."

"Sarah doesn't know everything."

"Neither do you."

"No, but I know all this between the two of you will not end well. I know you'll have her heart broken in the end..."

"I don't intend to hurt her."

"I'm not saying that you'll do it on purpose."

"Michael..."

"You can't do this. You can't love her."

Sam suspiciously narrowed his eyes, but Michael merely rolled his eyes.

"She's like a sister to me, don't be an idiot," Michael stopped Sam before he could make a sound.

"It's our decision to take," Sam replied.

"I'm not going to let you hurt her."

"Michael, there's no way you can leave this time anyway..."

"You don't know that. You don't even know what's going to happen tomorrow."

"Neither do you."

"Oh, I do know. And I know that we may have a chance to go home before all this is over."

Sam merely stared at him for a while.

"I know what's going to happen, Sam, and so does she. And so does James. But they all seem to have chosen to close their eyes and ignore reality."

"Michael..."

"Don't make her fall in love with you."

"I've never done anything to make all this happen..."

"Don't make her love you."

"It's too late for that."

Michael was frozen on the spot.

"Why do you think I'm taking such a risk?" Sam went on. "She already loves me."

He ran a hand in his hair in frustration.

"Whatever I choose to do, I'm making her suffer anyway. She would have suffered as well if I had chosen to ignore all these feelings..."

"She told you she loved you!?" Michael interrupted him.

"Yes. She did, Michael."

Michael heaved a sigh.

"Fuck!"

"Stop acting as if you were the only who cared about her," Sam said angrily. "Stop acting as if you were the only one who knew what is good for her. Because now, about what's going on between Sarah and I, you don't know anything."

"All of this is such a bad idea."

"Leave her alone."

"Don't you dare say something like this to me! Who do you think you are...?"

"I could ask you the same question."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"If you break her heart," Michael warned the Colonist, "I'll kill you myself."

Sam nodded.

"Well... it would be deserved."

"I think so myself. I hope you know what you're doing."

Sam couldn't help but wince.

"I'm not sure I do..." he breathed.

But before any of them could say a word, Kelly was storming into the room.

"Paul's going to the encampment, join the rest of our men. Are you going with him?"

Sam thought for a moment, before nodding.

"Yes, I'm coming."

Michael nodded as well.

"'Better get ready, then."

"You should stay here, you're not healed yet, Kelly," Sam told the Irishman.

Kelly merely frowned.

"I'm not going to stay behind."

But Sam grabbed his arm.

"I don't want to leave Abby, the children and Sarah here alone," Sam said in a lower voice. "I'd feel better if one of us could stay with them."

"Your cousin will be here."

"My cousin is not like you and I. He's no fighter, and I wish he could stay this way. He was shaken enough after the other night, at Hancock's house. I'm sure he would do his best, but I don't think it would be enough if British soldiers were to come here."

"Do you think Gage could know Sarah's here?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to take the risk of leaving them here on their own."

Kelly nodded.

"I'll stay and look after them then."

They walked out of the room, heading for the stairs, but Sam stopped before Sarah's bedroom.

He and Michael exchanged one last glance, before Sam would open the door, and disappear into the room, closing back the door behind him.

And Michael had a terrible feeling in his stomach...

* * *

 _Colonial Encampment_

 _4 miles West of Boston_

When they arrived at the encampment, it was late, and shadows had since long covered the world. The preparation of their departure had taken more time than any of them had thought it would. They hadn't had news from Ben Franklin in Philadelphia for a while, though the old man had told them he would soon send them a message. But despite the lack of news, a time came at which they couldn't wait anymore, and they had to depart for the colonial encampment, just a few miles away from Boston. They rested for what was left of the night, and when morning came again, it was strange to see the encampment in the growing light : a whole little city made of tents and poorly made shelters that expanded on a few hundred meters. There were men already awake walking in the long grass, watching the sun rising, some were eating a piece of bread or an apple as their breakfast. It was calm. Silent, almost surreal. Sam couldn't help but feel that it was only a moment of peace before the storm. He felt like something terrible was about to happen. He felt like ill news would soon come.

Always, his thoughts drifted back to Sarah.

He could hear her laugh in the wind, and he saw her hair in every shadow. He saw her blue eyes in the awaking sky, and her smile in the shy rays of sunlight. He knew she was miles away, and yet he could feel her by his side.

She had captured a part of him, a piece of his soul, his whole heart, and he felt like something was missing, as if he wasn't fully himself without her.

He had had this feeling for a long time, and he knew it, but now he was so much more aware of it...

He started when Warren tapped his shoulder.

"So, what do you think of the encampment?" the doctor asked.

"I for one think that we could have chosen a less muddy place..." Hancock complained behind them.

Sam merely let a smile form on his lips.

"It's a good spot, we know who goes where from here. We'll know about the movements coming from the City," Sam told Warren.

"If Gage sends back more troops, we will not hold though," Paul said.

"It's just a temporary camp, Paul," Sam answered. "We'll have to think about a way to protect ourselves in a much more efficient way."

"By the way, I heard that Gage is furious after our little adventure at his house. Apparently, we are all on the list of the most wanted men in the state."

"We already were on the list anyway," Hancock answered gloomily.

"I heard that he had paid a few men to find and condemn the passage we used to enter the house," Paul went on. "And he promised a rather generous award to anyone who would have any information about the rascals who captured his wife."

Warren let out a little laugh.

"I like how this man plays with the truth all the time..."

"You should be careful, though," Sam warned him. "Even if he declares the contrary in public, Gage knows perfectly well that his wife left with on her own accord. He will kill you if he has the chance."

"Same for you, Sam," Joseph replied. "Same for all of us anyway. Anyone caught helping one of us is to be shot on sight, remember?"

At the sound of thundering hooves, they all turned around, and were no less than shocked to see Ben Franklin stepping out of a carriage.

"I thought you were supposed to stay in Pennsylvania for a while," Sam told the newcomer, who hurried towards them.

" _I need a word_ ," Ben Franklin replied, ignoring Sam's remark.

"Has something wrong happened?" Joseph asked, worry now painted all over his face.

Franklin swept the sweat away from his brow with a white handkerchief, and finished to straight up his clothes and glasses. Before his worried expression, they all seemed to forget about the fact that they had not seen Franklin for months now.

" _They called for a Second Continental Congress,_ " he said. " _They demand an explanation from you._ "

" _Well... They want it right now?_ " Sam asked, already annoyed.

" _Yes, now,_ " Franklin nodded with a sigh.

" _Well, in case they hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of a fight here._ "

" _That's what they're afraid of_."

Sam clenched both his fists and jaws, fury burning in his dark eyes now.

" _What's the point ?_ " he asked trough gritted teeth. " _So I can... watch them write another love letter to the King?_ "

" _Gage's troops will be back,_ " Revere added. " _More men, more firepower..._ "

" _He's right,_ " Sam nodded gloomily.

Franklin remained calm despite the anger of his friends, and rested a soothing hand on Sam's shoulder. When he spoke again, the old man's voice was low and intense, speaking slowly as to explain something very important to a little child.

" _They will join the British_ ," he told Sam, staring intensely at him. " _They'll proclaim sides and they'll join the British against us._ Sam, trust me, I've done my best to calm them all down, I've been doing so for months. But now that blood has been shed, and that there is no turning back, they're afraid. They're afraid of what is going to come next. They're afraid of you as much as they are afraid of the Crown. And under fear, these people are going to choose the side that they think will provide them safety."

" _No... he's right,_ " Hancock blurted out. " _He's right, I've been among rich men my whole life, and they will not lose, they will not lose their fortunes... Anything but their fortunes. They will always take the side of power._ "

He looked more intensely at Sam, Warren and Revere.

" _Now Gentlemen... The Crown, Gage, The Empire..._ " he went on, counting down on his fingers. " _They will stop at nothing to make these men turn. And they_ will _turn._ "

He made a brief pause, and all could see that is was painful to him to confess what he was about to admit.

" _If they had offered it to me,_ " Hancock said slowly, a bitter tone making his voice low, " _I would have taken it._ "

They all looked at him, staring silently at the former merchant for a while. Sam looked at his dishevelled hair, and his dirty coat, and though Hancock had kept from his ancient life this slow tone of his and his way of standing always very straight, there was no arrogance left in him. He looked like the weight of his uncle was still on his shoulder, but he had chosen another life of his own. He wasn't the selfish, the sophisticated merchant that Sam had met a few years before. He knew Hancock had given every penny he had once had to their cause. Now, he merely smiled when Hancock complained. He was one of them now.

But there was a time when he had been like these men gathered in Philadelphia, these rich, powerful men who wanted to make sure that their private fortune would not be destroyed by any war with the British. And if Hancock told them that these rich men would turn, Sam believed him. They all believed him.

" _Warren and I will stay here. We'll hold the line,_ " Revere told Sam.

"We'll stay as well," James nodded, and Michael gave him a sad smile in response.

" _Fine_ ," Sam nodded slowly, before turning his attention back on Hancock. " _But you're coming with us._ "

Hancock merely nodded in response, and he, Sam and Ben Franklin walked towards the carriage.

"We should take my cousin with us too," Sam said.

"I was about to advise you to bring him along, actually," Franklin nodded. "We will need all the help we can get to convince the Congressmen I'm afraid. I suppose that Sarah is too weak to come along as well though..."

"She needs more time. She's far from healed," Sam nodded.

"It would be great to see her. I've missed her very much these past few months. I've missed you all, if I'm being completely honest..."

Hancock patted his shoulder.

"We missed you as well, Mr. Franklin."

The three men stepped into the carriage, and soon, they were riding towards John Adams's house once more.

* * *

Sarah was sitting in front of the house. She was sitting under an old oak, that shed a fresh shadow upon her, protecting her from the burning sun. Spring was spreading its wings of heat and light upon the world, and Sarah looked at the blooming flowers all around her. The breeze was a caress upon her skin and through her hair, and the grass delightfully tickled her calves and ankles. After all this time spent lying in this bed, all this sensation felt like honey on her soul.

She looked at the flowers around her, or to be more specific, her eyes were fixed on the blue wild flowers that grew a few feet away from her. But she couldn't really see them. Her mind had drifted away with the wind, and formed dark clouds above her head.

She knew what she wanted. She knew what she ought to do. And the two things were very different indeed...

If she knew she wanted to be with Sam, and forget about History, and the whole world around them and just be with him like she had dreamt so many times these past few years, her mind knew how to remind her that reality was much more complicated.

What would happen to History if she decided to change it this way? Could her relationship with Sam endanger the future in some way?

But so many things had happened, they had changed History so much already, she couldn't see how this love could make things worse. Perhaps she was asking herself too many questions.

Anyway, she knew that even if she had wanted to stop seeing Sam, for the sake of the timeline, she would have never been strong enough to do it.

His name was already written onto her soul anyway. He was a part of her. He had always been.

She started when she heard someone walking behind her.

"We didn't mean to startle you," Margaret Gage told Sarah, walking closer to the scientist with Mary.

"Do you need anything?" Mary asked Sarah.

"I'm fine," Sarah thanked her with a smile. "I was just resting."

"I'm sorry," Margaret breathed. "I'm sorry for what my husband did to you."

Sarah gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's not your fault. And I knew about the risks I was taking when I agreed to all this. Besides, some good things came out of what happened, in the end."

"Still... I'm sorry."

"Do you know if James and the others will come back soon?" Mary asked her.

"I don't know," Sarah earnestly answered. "I don't think so..."

"What's going to happen now?"

"I don't know, Mary. A Continental Congress, I hope."

"I hope they will be safe..."

Sarah looked at the flowers again, loosing herself in her thoughts.

"I don't think that anyone is safe anymore..."

None of the women spoke for a while, until the sound of hooves coming towards the house would break the silence that had settled between them.

A carriage was approaching.

The next second, Kelly and John Adams were running out of the house, rifles in their hands.

"All of you inside!" Kelly ordered.

Mary and Margaret helped Sarah to stand, but they all froze when they recognized the voice of the man who was screaming from the carriage.

"Have no fear! It's just us, Kelly!"

"Mr. Franklin?!" Sarah gasped.

The wave of laughter that rang through the air left no doubt possible, and the two men dropped their weapons. Soon, Ben Franklin, Hancock and Sam were walking towards the little group.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah asked, a bright smile on her face.

She hugged the old man tightly in her arms, making him laugh.

"Men in Philadelphia called for a new Congress," Franklin answered. "I came to bring some of us to Pennsylvania to talk about what happened in Concord and Lexington."

Sarah nodded.

"Where are Michael and James?" Mary asked.

"And Joseph?" Margaret added.

"They remained at the encampment. Don't worry, they'll be alright," Sam answered.

"It would be better if you came with us, John," Franklin told Sam's cousin. "We will need you there."

John Adams nodded.

"Of course, I'll go pack my things."

"We must hurry," Franklin insisted. "Tensions have never been higher in Philadelphia. We could lose all the help I have managed to gather..."

"I'll be ready in less than an hour."

"Perfect."

Sam hesitantly looked at Sarah.

"Sarah, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, his voice low. "In private, I mean..."

"Of course. I was about to take a walk," she answered, "would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

He offered her his arm, and they walked away from the group, both trying to ignore the stares their friends threw at them.

After a few minutes, they were lost in the trees, in the little wood near John Adams's house. There was no sound around them but of the singing birds and whispering wind through the branches above their heads. When she was sure they were alone, Sarah slipped her hand in Sam's, and he squeezed her gentle fingers in his calloused ones.

"I'm sorry I have to leave you alone here..." Sam breathed.

"I know that you don't have a choice," Sarah reassured him. "Besides, I could join you there, once I feel better. I reckon we will need calm people to negotiate, and you're certainly not the most patient man around here."

They exchanged a smile.

"I guess I'm not," he admitted. "But still... I wish I could stay here, for a little longer."

"This is more important than us, Sam."

"There is no need to remind me of such things."

They stopped under a cherry tree in full blossom. The pale petals were flying around, taken away by the wind, and it seemed that is was snowing flowers. Sarah leaned against the trunk, Sam standing before her and still holding her hand.

"I'll miss you," she breathed.

"I'll miss you as well."

"Be careful. Gage still wants your head."

"I reckon that he wants it more than ever, indeed," he nodded, a cocky smile on his face.

"Don't laugh. I'm being serious."

"Gage can't do anything against me in Philadelphia. I'll be just fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"No one knows I'm here."

"Be careful still. And don't do stupid things. Don't try to help us for now. Now, you need to rest, and heal. You must take care of yourself, and not of others."

She gave him a reassuring smile, nodding, and she gently pulled him closer to her. He rested his hands on her waist, and his brow against hers. She let her fingers wander through his hair.

"Let's not talk about all this anymore," she whispered. "Let's not talk at all."

He dropped a sweet kiss on her lips, and they remained there, standing beneath the tree, holding on each other tightly, for a long while.

"Je t'aime, Sam," Sarah whispered after a long silence.

He looked at her deep blue eyes.

"Sorry... I mean..." she stuttered, but he shushed her.

"I understood that."

He ran a hand through her dark hair.

"I understood, Sarah. And I love you as well."

He smiled. A bright, earnest smile like she had never seen on his face. It was so happy, and joyful, and earnest, forgetting about the world and all the bad things that is held within its bosom. It was a smile so innocent, that only a man in love could produce despite the terrors of the world.

He kissed her lips again, holding her a bit more tightly against him.

"You have to go," Sarah finally brought them back to reality.

He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent in and trying to memorize as much of her as he could.

"I know," he breathed.

She held him closer to her. She could feel his heart beating as fast as her own against her chest.

"I'll join you as soon as Warren says that I can ride safely," she said.

He nodded, his lips inches away from her neck. But he didn't kiss her skin there, and he gentlemanly dropped a chaste kiss on her brow instead.

"I'll write to you. I'll find a way to write to you," he swore. "Just... wait for me."

"I will."

They exchanged one more tender kiss, before he would finally free himself from her sweet embrace, and he walked back towards the house, leaving her alone under the falling flowers. And despite his heavy, his gaze was alit with a determined glint as he strode throughout the grass and the fallen leaves.

He was heading for Philadelphia.


	29. Debating Again

**Here comes a new chapter! I'm sorry I couldn't find any time to write during my internship. But now that it is over, I'm on HOLIDAY! Which means that I'll have much more time to write!**

 **Thank you SOOOOOOOOO much to Wane Soo-Jin for all your reviews! You're amazing!**

 **Thank you as well to for your review on the last chapter, and to answer your question, yes, I know there is a test on SoL. I'm Sam Adams! Goes with the Gryffindor profile I guess ;)**

 **Three scenes were taken from the series here. I hope you like this chapter.**

 **Next update on Monday. Please don't forget to leave a review ;)**

* * *

 **Debating Again**

 _2_ _nd_ _Continental Congress_

 _Pennsylvania State House, Philadelphia_

 _May 10_ _th_ _, 1775_

The Congress looked more like chaos than a gathering of Delegates. As he looked around him, Sam could only recognize anger and fear on the faces of the men who had come from all around the thirteen colonies. These men who liked to praise themselves for their fortune and their power, looked more hysterical than powerful now. Despite their beautiful suits and their proud stature their eyes betrayed them all : they were scared. They were worried. They were furious. And, according to Sam, all for the wrong reasons.

Behind his huge wooden desk, the President of the session tried to bring back calm into the room. But no one seemed to care about his shouts. They were all too busy with shouts of their own.

Sam looked at Dickinson for a while. He had recognized the Delegate of Pennsylvania in a second when he had entered the room. With his dark suit and his posh tone, the politician was looking at Sam and his friends with glances full of disgust and anger.

How could have Sam forgotten his face ? Dickinson was the man who had proposed to write a letter to the King during the first Congress. He had proposed to write a letter, when Boston needed men and gunpowder. He had abandoned them to Gage's tyranny, and had merely looked away when Sam had tried to describe what was the reality of a life under the control of someone like Gage. But Dickinson had ignored him, looking away, he had stopped listening, like a rich man that turns his gaze away as he walks before a beggar. And now he was walking across the hall again, back and forth, gathering in its wake acclamations from all these men who were too scared to help Boston...

Sam looked down at the table, feeling like he was wasting some precious time he knew he didn't have. He rested one hand upon the table, his other hand resting on his knee, playing with the little hole on his trousers there. He felt so out of place in this room. He wished he could go back to Boston, and finally be useful, helping Revere and Joseph at the encampment, and visiting Sarah, just to make sure that she was fine...

But instead, he had to remain there, sitting, listening to this clown who kept on speaking deadly poison to the men all around the room, who were all too eager to drink his words.

" _I see no soldiers in the Streets of Philadelphia..._ " Dickinson said loudly, his voice covering all the other conversations across the room. " _Pennsylvania is not at war. New York is not at war. But Boston..._ "

He turned his angry face towards Sam, John Adams, Hancock and Franklin.

"... _is at war._ "

He took a step towards the table around which the four friends were sitting, his furious glance fixed upon Sam.

" _None of this would have happened, if it wasn't for_ him," he said, pointing at Sam.

Sam clenched his fist under the table, and struggled to remain calm. But instead of grabbing this goddamn insolent by the throat like he wanted to do, he merely held his chin a bit higher, not flinching, not looking at Dickinson, his gaze still fixed on the table before him.

" _It's true,_ " Dickinson went on as Sam wasn't reacting. " _If it wasn't for Samuel Adams and his thuggish friends, we wouldn't be in this position. We would be leading our lives content... and British. You, Sir..._ " and Dickinson advanced towards Sam, fury painted all over his face, his tone full of provocation. " _... have escalated this situation!_ "

Sam couldn't help but clench his jaws. It was hard for him to breathe. It was so hard not to react...

And Dickinson wasn't done yet, he intended to make him react. And he knew how close of explosion Sam was. Just one more offense, and it would be over...

" _You and your band of rebels..._ " he spat disdainfully.

Sam stood up, staring at Dickinson, with just as much hate and anger as Dickinson had in his own glance. Although, Sam wasn't afraid of Dickinson, and Dickinson wasn't so sure it was a good idea to provoke Sam Adams after all. Because the light that glimmered in his eyes could tell Dickinson how close Sam was to punch him in the face...

" _You weren't there,_ " Sam croaked through gritted teeth, rage making his voice low and trembling. " _None of you !_ "

Sam looked at the men all gathered in the hall, and there was no sound in the room. No one was moving, all were listening. Sam couldn't help but raise his voice when he spoke again. There was too much anger and frustration in his heart.

" _None of you have seen what has been happening in Boston._ "

Sam walked to the centre of the hall, before resuming his speech, anger still shaking his voice.

" _Good men have lost their lives, and you're sitting here... arguing and looking for somebody to blame well, here I am! I am here. I'm here to work with you, I'm here to work with you to find a solution._ "

" _To a problem that_ you _created,_ " Dickinson snapped.

Sam and Dickinson stared at each other for a moment, both of them motionless, the room filled with a heavy silence, before Sam would turn around and storm out of the room.

The second the doors closed behind him, the hall was shaken by shouts and exclamations and protestations again. Hancock, John and Franklin exchanged a worried glance.

" _This is not a good situation,_ " Hancock whispered. " _We need these men._ "

Franklin nodded slowly, looking at the chaos around him.

"There is quite a lot of work that awaits us..."

* * *

When Yuri was called at Beacon Hill, he knew he was in trouble. He had heard about the intrusion of Sam Adams and his friends in the General's house. Surely there was a link between his convocation and the events of the previous days. First the defeat at Concord and Lexington, with Adams and Hancock escaping. Then Adams escaping _again_ in Boston, and freeing Sarah. And finally the attack on the General's house...

Yuri was in big trouble.

He took a deep breath before opening the door of the General's office.

Gage was sitting before the fire, a glass of red wine in his hand, staring at the fire. He seemed to be lost in thought. Yuri cleared his throat.

"You asked to see me, Sir," Yuri said softly.

Gage winced at the sound of the man's German accent.

"Yes, indeed," the soldier answered, still staring at the dancing flames.

"What may I do for you?"

Gage took a gulp of whine before answering.

"You haven't been very useful until now, Dr Einbrecher."

"I didn't know for what happened on the square, nor for the attack on your house..."

"You were not particularly useful at catching Adams and Hancock before that either."

"I am working to improve your canons..."

"Yes, I've heard about that..."

"It would allow you to shoot more quickly than before, and from further away."

Gage nodded, but his expression was unreadable.

"What is going to happen now?" Gage asked him. "What is the next move?"

Yuri flinched.

"Well..."

"I want to know what is going to be the next battle. When, where, and how many men I will lose. I want to know who is going to be victorious next time."

Yuri struggled to swallow.

"Are you certain that..."

But Yuri fell silent as the General took a pistol from the table next to him.

"If you want to walk out of this room alive, I would advise you to answer my question," Gage said in a tone that was colder than stone.

Yuri stared at him with wide eyes.

"General..."

"I leave you five seconds."

Yuri heard the loud click of the firearm as it was armed.

"Of course I will cooperate, General," Yuri sighed through gritted teeth.

Gage put down the pistol on the table again.

"Wise decision," Gage told the scientist, before drinking another gulp of wine. "So, where are Adams and Hancock?"

"Philadelphia," Yuri answered.

Gage looked at him, his eyes piercing the German to his soul.

"Philadelphia?" he repeated.

Yuri nodded.

"Samuel Adams, his cousin, John Hancock, and probably Benjamin Franklin as well. They are all in Philadelphia, for a Continental Congress."

Gage nodded slowly.

"So, the rats are trying to find support in the other Colonies..."

"This will take time though."

"Where are the meetings in Philadelphia?"

"Pennsylvania State House. Delegates from all the Colonies attend them."

"I cannot act in another Colony..." Gage mumbled, talking to himself now more than to Yuri. "Not officially at least."

"I reckon you're going to need to let your men heal before trying anything anyway," Yuri told the General, choosing every one of his words carefully. "The militia has besieged the city, we cannot send any troops out. We need more men..."

"When is supposed to be the next Battle?" Gage interrupted him. "I need to quash them once and for all..."

Clearly, Gage had not been listening to the previous intervention of Yuri.

"In June," Yuri answered. "Once you will have more men."

Gage stared at Yuri for a while.

"We need to take back the hills around Boston," he told the scientist.

Gage stood up, and walked to his desk, examining the map of Boston that covered the entire wooden furniture.

"For now we can be supplied by sea. I'll call for more men. Once the officers and their men are arrived, we will attack the Colonial positions and take back the hills. We need to have control on the whole Peninsula."

He stared for a moment at the little dot that spotted the town of Charlestown, a few miles away from Boston.

"We need to take back full control on the Harbour and the coast surrounding it. We need to have control at least until Charlestown, even beyond."

He looked at Yuri again.

"How many of their militia men are around the City?"

Yuri shrugged.

"I don't remember the exact number..." he answered. "I know that some came from New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island... There are probably several thousands of men."

"They cannot cover such a wide area in a coordinate attack though," Gage answered. "And they probably don't have much ammunitions, I've made sure that no one would sell them gunpowder. And well... They are untrained militia men."

"You should not underestimate them though..."

"Are you really trying to tell me that a bunch of rascals could stand before trained British troops?"

"I am saying that these men know how to fight, and if you underestimate them , you might lose many men."

Gage didn't answer, staring at the map before him again. He sipped a gulp of red wine once more.

"We can hold this siege, we are not in a hurry," Gage said. "We need more men, on this we agree..."

He looked up at Yuri again.

"You will improve my weapons. Improve the canons, like you intended to do. I will call you again to talk about this battle in June."

Yuri nodded, and started towards the door.

"Oh, and Dr. Einbrecher..."

Yuri turned towards the General again. Gage had sit down at his desk, and was looking at his red wine as he turned his glass between his fingers.

"I'll send my spies to look for your former colleagues, especially the woman. You wouldn't have any idea of a place where they could be hiding, by any chance?"

Yuri clenched his fists, his heart aching.

But his heart was aching only because Sarah had broken it that night, in the square. It wasn't aching out of worry for the persons he had once called his friends, these people he had loved.

Now, his heart was filled with pain and bitterness.

"I'm sure Michael and James are fighting with the militia," Yuri said. "You can be sure they will be there when the moment comes to fight."

"And the woman?"

Yuri clenched his jaws, staring at Gage, who was holding his stare now.

"Find Samuel Adams, I bet you'll find her too."

Gage nodded, and wavered the scientist to go away.

When he walked out of the house and through Beacon Hill, heading back towards his own house, Yuri couldn't see anything around him. There was too much rage running through his veins.

Sarah had been quite clear, he would never have her.

Well, he didn't intend to let anyone have her then.

* * *

 _Colonial Encampment_

 _One mile North of Boston_

James bit in his apple, his eyes drifting away across the encampment, watching the men walking between the tents, carrying goods and rifles, barrels of gunpowder and water supplies. He could recognize which barrels were holding the gunpowder he had produced himself, they were all marked with the red letters 'J.W'. He winced at the thought that something he had made would be used to kill.

" _We have Boston surrounded. Gage and his men still control the City,_ " said Amos behind him, tearing James away from his thoughts, and he turned around again towards the men that were gathered in the tent.

"They'll be coming for us soon, we must get prepared," Michael nodded slowly, looking at a map of Boston that was splayed upon the table before him.

" _What's the status of Militia?_ " Warren asked.

" _We're growing every day_ ," Amos answered. " _But these men are untrained, they're unorganized."_

" _Could we stand a full British attack?_ " Revere asked his friend.

" _A few charges maybe. A full scale attack?_ " Amos said, before shaking his head.

Revere heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes.

"Have you been to John Adams's lately?" James asked Warren.

The doctor nodded.

"I was there three days ago. I'll go back there tomorrow, take a look at Sarah's wound."

"How is she doing?" Amos asked him.

"She's growing more impatient every day," Warren smiled. "But she's healing quite well. She should be ready to ride within a month or so. It will take some time though, she should have been treated earlier."

"I hope she doesn't go too well too soon, or else she'll want to fight with us again," Revere smiled.

But Warren shook his head.

"She's planning on going to Philadelphia once she's able to ride."

James propped up an eyebrow.

"I thought she would want to fight."

Warren shrugged.

"I know she writes to Franklin, Hancock, Sam and his cousin in Philadelphia."

"No, she writes to Sam, there's a difference," Michael replied through gritted teeth.

He heaved a sigh.

"I'll go see if the canons have arrived."

He strode out of the tent, oblivious of the stares that followed him as he walked away through the Encampment.

* * *

There was fog covering the streets of Philadelphia. Twilight had brought humidity with the fire of the skies, and Sam was looking at the little clouds drifting across the streets, and roaming upon the rooftops. Through the fog, the silhouettes of the people walking through the streets looked like ghosts, like they were of the same smoke that filled the air around them. It was a strange sensation, like they were not real, when he was real somehow. Like he didn't belong to the same world than those strangers who were walking out there. But then, he often felt like he didn't belong to the world around him...

He jumped when Hancock walked into Ben Franklin's living room.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Hancock told Sam, walking closer to him.

"I was merely lost in thought," Sam reassured him, turning towards the window again.

"Have you calmed down since the debate?"

There was no animosity in his voice, and Sam merely sighed in response.

"We need to control our nerves," Hancock added cautiously.

"I tried to."

"I know, I had noticed. But it will take time."

"We don't have time, John."

Hancock rested a hand on Sam's shoulder, forcing Sam to face him.

"This is important, Sam. We can't do this on our own."

A small smile appeared on Sam's face.

"I could hear Sarah speaking."

Hancock smiled as well.

"Well, she's a wise woman."

"She is..."

"Speaking of Sarah, this arrived for you today. I reckon it's her handwriting."

He handed on envelope to Sam, as John Adams and Ben Franklin were walking into the room.

"I don't know for you, but I'm starving," Franklin said nonchalantly.

But Sam was not fooled. He leaned against the windowpane, turning the envelope between his fingers.

"Go on then, give me your lecture," Sam told Franklin.

But the elder man shook his head, and walked to the table to pour himself a drink.

"I won't give you a lecture, Mr. Adams. You are too old for that. And I don't consider myself old enough to give lectures to grown men."

Sam gave him a sad smile.

"I understand your frustration, Sam, we all do," John Adams told him. "But we need these men."

"I understand your words, I just don't see how someone like this delegate from Pennsylvania could help _us_."

"He can't, but the weight of his Colony can. We must convince _all_ of these men, including Dickinson."

"Dickinson thinks himself as an Englishman, he will never agree with us."

"It depends on what you want exactly," Franklin said. "It depends how far you are ready to go."

"You know what I want, Mr. Franklin. I've always been quite clear about what I want. I think we've all been clear about what we want. And I thought you agreed with us..."

"Yes, but I think we must be clear on what we want now. We must face it ourselves, because fighting for our rights is going to involve some extreme actions."

"What do you mean?" John Adams asked him.

"I reckon we have taken extreme measures already," Hancock mumbled. "Fighting and men dying is already quite extreme, don't you think?"

"Yes, of course," Franklin nodded. "But on the terms of our relationship with the British Crown and the other Colonies, we need to decide where we stand."

"What do you mean?"

A small smile curved up Franklin's lips and he poured himself a glass of red wine.

"Well _, you want to operate your business without someone else taking it over?_ " he asked the three men behind him.

He poured a second glass of wine and offered it to Hancock.

" _Yes,_ " John Adams answered.

" _And... live in your own house without the fear of someone taking it?_ " Franklin went on, pouring down another glass of alcohol.

" _Absolutely yes,_ " Hancock nodded, bitterness oozing from his voice.

Franklin offered the wine to Sam, but he politely refused the drink. The elder man merely nodded and handed the glass to John Adams instead.

Franklin couldn't help but feel happy with the fact that Sam had stopped drinking since he and Sarah had become close friends. And he wasn't naive enough to ignore the link between the two events...

" _You want the... the right to not fear the whip of a king?_ "

Sam nodded.

" _Exactly,_ " he answered.

" _Well Gentlemen..._ " Franklin went on, looking at the three men standing before him. " _I have been in England for more than a decade and you're not going to get any of those rights or freedoms from them._ "

He let himself fall down onto the sofa, and drank a gulp of wine, before resuming his speech.

" _You're not talking about defending your rights as Englishmen,_ " he said. " _You're talking about a new country._ "

" _A country?_ " John Adams asked.

Sam nodded.

"Sarah talked about this possibility before."

Franklin nodded.

" _Yes... All the Colonies united. A new nation. That's the only way it's gonna work. Is that really what you want?_ "

Hancock looked cautiously at Sam.

" _Well... I suppose it is..._ "

But Sam interrupted him quickly, his dark glance fixed upon Franklin.

" _Yes,_ " Sam said firmly.

Franklin smiled, raising his glass to his lips again.

" _Well that... that's an absolutely... bad shit crazy idea. And it's exactly what I want too._ "

He stood up, smiling at Sam.

" _So... let's see if we can sell this idea to everyone else._ "

He grabbed his coat.

"I'll go eat with a friend of mine, he might give me names of future allies. You should rest. Next time we go to the Congress, we'll need a strategy."

He walked out of the room, leaving the three friends alone in the fading lights of twilight. Hancock lit up some candles.

"I think I'll head straight to bed, I'm not angry," Sam said.

"As you wish. I for one am up for a game of chess," Hancock said, looking at John Adams.

"My dear Hancock, you are reading my mind," Adams answered with a smile.

Sam left the two men in the living room, and headed to his bedroom. They were lucky that Ben Franklin's house was large enough to hold several bedrooms...

The second he closed the door he strode towards the little wooden table he used as a desk, and cut the envelope open with a silvery letter-opener he had borrowed to Hancock.

He sat down on the bed, and smiled at the sight of Sarah's graceful handwriting.

 _Dear Sam,_

 _I am happy your journey to Philadelphia happened without any problem. I hope Hancock wasn't in a bad mood though, I know how much he hates long rides._

 _I have to admit that I am getting bored here. Despite that the pain has almost disappeared now, I still cannot stand for too long (doctor's orders) and Abigail's novels lack of interest once you've read them three times._

 _I had news from the Encampment from Joseph today. They have secured the area around Boston, and they are growing in numbers every day. I am worried about the lack of ammunitions and the untrained new recruits though. I hope they will have enough time to get ready for the next British stand. I was thinking about using nitro-glycerin against British canons. But I have to ask Kelly help on such a plan, he has much more experience on a battle field than I do. I'm sure he'll give me good advices._

 _I know the debates are going to be difficult for you, but you must be patient. Politics is a battle that is fought on the long run. Trust me on this, we will need these men. So try not to punch anyone in the face, would you?_

 _By the way, I already miss you terribly._

 _With all my love,_

 _Sarah_

Sam folded back the letter and put it safely in a book on his bedside table, a small smile on his face. He picked up a piece of paper, a quill and some dark ink.

 _My dearest Sarah,_

 _I'm sure that the talks with Kelly about explosives shall prove themselves efficient in keeping you busy for a while. And if you are bored again, ask him about the summer 1766 and the drummer boy. I'm sure you will find this story interesting._

 _I'm glad you're feeling better, but I'm counting on you to listen to Joseph's orders. I know you have a tendency to overestimate your strengths. I guess you must be too brave for your own good._

 _The first debate went ill, I'm not going to lie. Although I didn't punch anyone, I walked out of the State House before I couldn't control myself anymore. The others all agree with the fact that we need to convince these men, that we need to talk to them. And if you are advising me to do the same then, I guess I should stop thinking that we can handle this on our own. I just don't like the idea of depending on men like them. I don't think they can be reliable. I expect to be stabbed in the back every time I see them. Perhaps it's just an effect politicians have on me._

 _I will make more effort to remain calm in the future. You have my word._

 _I miss you too, and I hope you can soon ride here. Be careful, and keep an eye on Kelly. Make sure he rests enough as well. He will want to go to the Encampment as soon as he can shoot properly, but I would be much more reassured if he could remain with you at John's house._

 _With all the love in my heart,_

 _Sam Adams_

He folded the letter, put it in an envelope and sealed it before writing Sarah's name on the pale paper. He would have to wait for a messenger from the Encampment to arrive to send it to her though. He couldn't take the risk to send it by classical ways. He hid the letter under a pile of books, and headed back downstairs, his stomach painful with hunger.

In the living room, Hancock and Sam's cousin were playing chess, eating cheese and bread and drinking red wine.

"I thought you weren't hungry," John Adams told him, an amused smile badly hidden on his face, when Sam picked up a piece of cheese from his cousin's plate.

"Now, I am," Sam answered with a shrug.

He walked towards the kitchen.

"How is Sarah, by the way?" Hancock asked him, clearly teasing him.

But Sam failed at glaring at him, and merely chuckled instead, as he disappeared into the kitchen.


	30. Trembling In The Shadows

**Hi everyone! I'm sorry, I've just noticed that I had put the chapter in the Doc Manager section, but hadn't posted it. Ooops...**

 **We have two things quite amazing to celebrate, guys! This chapter is the 30th, that's pretty great I reckon ! And I've passed the 300 pages in my word document with this chapter. That makes a looooooooot of pages! So thank you to you all who have read these 300 pages!**

 **And thank you Wane Soo-Jin for your review on the previous chapter!**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series in this chapter.**

 **The next chapter will be longer than usual (Bunker Hill and other things to tackle), so I'll try to update next week, but it'll depend on how long the chapter will be in the end.**

 **Hope you like this chapter, and don't forget to tell me what you think about it.**

* * *

 **Trembling in the Shadows**

It was the end of May. The 26th. Reinforcement had arrived the previous day, three generals arriving on the _HMS Cerberus_. That's how William Howe, John Burgoyne and Henry Clinton found themselves in General Gage's office, along with several of his officers and Yuri. Despite their weariness after their journey, all of them understood that the General needed to act quickly. And none of them complained when Gage called for a meeting to organize their move against the Colonial Militia.

Gage was sitting at his desk, apparently examining the map before him, although all who knew him were aware that he was merely thinking. Sitting in the middle of all those officers made Yuri nervous, very nervous. There was too much cunningness shining in their eyes, too much decorations hung onto their chests... He felt like he was out of place.

But Gage spoke to him first.

"When will the canons be ready to be used?" Gage asked.

"Within a week," Yuri answered. "We still have a few tests to run to be sure of their efficiency and their reliability, but I am confident in the fact that they will all be ready within a week."

"Good."

He looked up at the officers in the room, and pointed at Yuri.

"As many of you know, Dr. Einbrecher has a full knowledge of the future," Gage said. "And I intend to use his knowledge in order to quash this insurrection that has been tearing apart this Colony for so long now. So, Dr Einbrecher, what is supposed to happen?"

Yuri struggled to swallow, his throat tightening. He could hear Sarah's warnings in his head again and again.

But his heart was so much filled with bitterness towards her that he forced himself to stop listening to the voice that kept on whispering warnings in his ears.

"The battle will be set on Bunker Hill. On June 17."

"Will we take the control of the area?"

"You will. Though you will lose many men."

"We have now six thousand men," Howe said. "I am sure that this is more than enough."

"It doesn't mean that the number of dead and wounded will not be high," Yuri replied.

"We need the control of this area," Gage stated. "We must attack there. And if we are supposed to win, then I do not see why we should hesitate."

"The cost in men..."

"I do not reckon that you are specialized in warfare, are you Dr ?" Gage snapped.

Yuri bit his tongue, looking down at his feet.

"We need to plan the attack on Bunker Hill," Gage told his officers. "Dr Einbrecher, will explain us the organization of the Colonial Militia."

He pointed at the map upon his desk, and Yuri bent over the desk to take a look at the area surrounding Boston.

"I'm not sure I can remember everything," he warned Gage.

"As long as your information are correct, it will help" Pitcairn reassured him, noticing the scientist's stress.

But as Yuri was about to speak, a soldier opened the door of the General's office, and invited a man inside.

Yuri recognized him in an instant. He was a spy. He had worked for Hutchinson when he was still Governor.

"Mr. Whittier, did you learn anything?" Gage asked his spy.

"I have found the men you were looking for," Whittier nodded.

"Where are they?" Gage urgently asked him.

"Redcraft and Williamson are with the Militia," he answered. "It took me longer to find the woman though. They kept her in safety."

"Where is she?"

"In John Adams' house."

"Samuel Adams' cousin..."

"Exactly. She hides there, alongside John Adams' wife, and..."

He hesitated, but Gage silently encouraged him to pursue.

"Your wife and her housemaid are there as well."

Gage flinched, his cheeks paler than before.

"This is the place where they are keeping the General's wife?" Pitcairn asked, shocked.

"We must free her," Howe cried.

But Gage raised a hand.

"Do you think my wife was in danger?" Gage asked Whittier.

No one needed to know that his wife had probably run away with the thugs that had walked into his house. There was no mystery to the reason why she could have betrayed him this way. And he intended to kill this doctor Warren himself if he had the chance...

And he also didn't really want to rescue the woman who had betrayed him.

"I do not think so," Whittier shook his head. "She didn't seem to be harmed. When I saw her, she was sitting before the house, looking at the sky."

"I do not wish to endanger the battle," Gage said. "And I am certain that my wife would agree and be ready to take such a risk for the Crown. If we take Hugo now, they may want to act fast..."

"They will seek vengeance," Yuri nodded.

"We will wait the day of the Battle at Bunker Hill. And then we will strike also at John Adams' house. We'll send a group of men there, at the beginning of the battle."

"Do you think that she will hold on for so long?" Pitcairn asked Gage.

"She is stronger than many think."

"What are your orders about the others?"

"We will wait for the battle for all of them."

"I have also seen Samuel Adams and John Hancock," Whittier said. "The German was right, they are in Philadelphia."

Gage nodded.

"We'll take a risk if we act outside the Colony. It must be worth it," Pitcairn said.

"Having Samuel Adams dead is worth it," Gage spat.

There was a heavy silence for a moment.

"What shall we do then?" Pitcairn asked.

Gag walked to the window. Outside, the wind was carrying away the smokes coming out of the chimneys, and the seagulls coming from the ocean. And Gage suddenly realized how personal this fight had become, and that he was ready to take many risks...

"General?" Pitcairn asked again.

Gage clenched his jaws.

"We act now."

* * *

Sam had stopped trying to hide his correspondence with Sarah. Franklin, Hancock and John Adams had pierced what Sam had wanted to keep secret the very first days after their arrival at Philadelphia. There was no need to try to hide what was obvious to all. And Sam knew they were suspecting that his relationship with Sarah had evolved, and was now more than friendship. But he didn't dare to answer their questions as long as he hadn't talked with Sarah about the possibility to reveal their relation to their friends. And he didn't want to talk about this in a mere letter, he needed to see her face to face to talk about such a personal matter.

So when he received a letter from Sarah that day (like he did every time a messenger arrived from Boston), he didn't walk to his bedroom, but merely sat down on the sofa, tearing the letter open. He read the woman's message, unaware of the amused glances his friends were exchanging.

 _Dearest Sam,_

 _The time of the next battle is closing on us. I'm pretty busy these days, I've been working with James and Michael to find a way to provoke the explosion of our nitro-glycerin from afar. We managed to create a system, and it should to do trick. The first experiments worked perfectly. If we can manage to place explosives were Gage would place his canons, we should be able to destroy them before Gage and his men can fire on us. I reckon it would save many lives. If Yuri doesn't mess up with History, we should have a week still before the attack at Bunker Hill. It should be enough for us to finish our devices._

 _Kelly is angry at me for not wanting him to fight along Paul at Bunker Hill. Even if Joseph and Paul agree with me, he still wants to go. Could you write him a note, and tell him not to go. I know he'll listen to you._

 _Joseph came to the house yesterday. He says he's very optimistic about my wound. I should be able to ride in a couple of weeks. I can't wait to come to Philadelphia and see you._

 _I love you,_

 _Sarah._

Sam smiled before walking to the table, grabbing a piece of paper, some ink and a quill. He wrote down the note for Kelly first, asking him to stay close to Sarah and to look after her for him. He knew the Irishman enough to know that it was the only way to make him stay behind when the others fought a Bunker Hill. He needed to ask him a favor. He needed to ask him to protect Sarah in his stead.

"What are the news from Boston?" Franklin asked.

"Sarah, James and Michael have managed to build a device to make the nitro-glycerin explode from afar," Sam answered, still writing his note. "They want to use it to make Gage's canons explode."

"That would give us a considerable advantage," Franklin nodded.

"I should be there," Sam whispered.

"No, we need you here, Sam," Hancock shook his head, before checking out the time. "And we need to leave for the State House in five minutes, actually. I'd better get ready."

Sam heaved a sigh, looking at Sarah's letter again.

She had told him more than once that he needed to stay in Philadelphia, that he had to go to the Delegates' meetings, that he needed to convince these men...

He longed so much for getting out of there and riding back to Boston, stopping at his cousin's house to see her, and hold her, even if it was just for a few minutes, before heading to Bunker Hill to help Paul and the rest of the men. But he trusted Sarah too much for throwing her advices away. And so he stood up, and went to pick up his coat, ready to head for the State House once more.

* * *

Sam was fuming one more time. He had tried to talk to one or two of the politicians, but the only thing they would want to discuss was their lands, their profits, their economical alliances. He had talked to a Delegate from Virginia, and he only wanted to know if he would have to take the risk to stop his exchange of cottons with some of the Colonies. And when Sam had tried to tell him that what was important for now was to protect the people from the Crown and the Red Coats, that what they needed was to send men to Boston to free the City, he didn't seem to care. Now Sam had stopped trying to talk to anyone, and had been sitting alone since then. When Hancock came to join him, and started to talk about some commercial arrangement, Sam couldn't take any more of it.

"This is useless!" Sam told him through gritted teeth, struggling to keep his voice low, infuriated.

" _Mr. Adams you're missing the point,_ " Hancock replied, sighing. " _We have to appeal to their motivations._ "

Ben Franklin approached their table, leaning over the wooden surface, and he completed Hancock's message to the infuriated Sam.

" _...And they are all different._ "

But Sam couldn't calm down.

" _You're talking about starting a new country. What kind of country would that be?_ " he asked Franklin through gritted teeth.

" _Mr. Adams,_ " Franklin calmly answered, like he was talking to a young child, " _you have a lot to learn, and I suggest that you learn it quickly. If 12 years standing in front of the Parliament has taught me anything is that politics is a chess match. You must think 5 moves ahead._ "

" _And what happens 5 moves from where we are now?_ "

Franklin stared intensely at him.

" _We take their King._ "

Sam and Franklin stared intensely at each other, while John Adams was sitting next to them. Hancock stood up, straightening his suit. The door of the Hall opened at the same time, and Sam, like most men in the Hall, turned to the door to see who was the newcomer. It was a young man, wearing a long, dark coat. He seemed to look for someone across the room. Sam guessed that he was a messenger. He focused upon Hancock once more.

"I need to keep trying to convince the Delegate from Georgia," Hancock told his friends. "He just needs to be reassured, but I'm sure that I can convince him."

Sam felt a stare upon him, and he turned towards the door of the Hall again. The man who had just come in was staring at him. He looked like he was searching for something beneath his coat.

Sam frowned, there was something wrong with this man standing still in the middle of the Delegates...

"They are worrying about their trades?" Franklin asked Hancock.

"Yes, they want to be sure that they will be able to keep their trades intact."

Sam was still looking carefully at this newcomer. He was now staring at Hancock... He seemed to be holding something under his long coat...

...Sam reacted in a second, he had merely had a glimpse at the butt of the pistol...

"John!"

Sam threw himself upon Hancock, making him fall to the ground... as a detonation was echoing throughout the Hall.

John Adams pushed down Ben Franklin, hiding behind the table. George Washington was the first to react, and when all the Delegates were starting to panic, he was hurrying towards the shooter.

Sam helped Hancock reaching a table, and he felt a bullet brushing his arm. When he looked towards the entrance again, George Washington had reached the shooter, and was trying to take the firearm from him. Sam didn't hesitate for a second. He stood up and ran towards the two men fighting.

But now that he was running, hurrying towards danger, he couldn't help but being afraid. It was strange to feel this way, and as he approached the shooter, he was suddenly terrified.

It had been years since he had felt afraid to die so much. He felt like he had to live. He felt...

He felt like he shouldn't be running towards danger this way...

He felt like Sarah would never forgive him if something happened to him.

But what else could he do? He had always been reckless. He had always put himself in danger. His thoughts were messy all of a sudden...

But he was already reaching George Washington and the shooter. Sam punched hard the man on the face, hearing his nose cracking and breaking under the strength of the punch. It was enough for Washington to take the gun. A second later, three other Delegates were holding the man, and he was brought to the ground.

Washington and Sam exchanged a glance, both of them out of breath. Sam could feel the adrenaline disappearing from his blood, his heartbeat slowing down.

"How's your arm?" Washington asked Sam.

It's only then than Sam realized he was bleeding. But he didn't feel any pain. He guessed he was still too much shocked for that.

"It's just a scratch," he merely answered.

He offered the soldier his open hand.

"Thank you," he merely said, shaking hands with Washington.

"Anytime, Mr. Adams."

Ben Franklin, John Adams and Hancock joined them. Sam noticed that Hancock was still trembling.

"You're okay John?" he asked the merchant.

Hancock nodded, staring at the blood oozing from Sam's wound.

"You're hurt," he said.

"It's nothing, a mere scratch."

They all turned towards the shooter again ,who was now on his knees, firmly held by three young Delegates. Some Delegates had disappeared from the Hall, probably to go look for help.

Sam kneeled down before this young man he had never seen, and yet had tried to murder him seconds before.

"Who are you?" Sam asked him.

But the young man remained silent.

"Who are you? Speak! " Washington insisted.

But Sam only needed to know one thing.

"Do you work for Gage?"

The young man stared at him intensely.

"Do you work for General Gage?" Same asked again, his tone frozen.

A small smile appeared on the man's face, and it was worth a thousand words...

Gage had sent him to kill them all.

* * *

"How could something like that happen?"

"John, you need to calm down."

Sam winced as his cousin was proving himself not very good at bandaging his arm.

"We're in Philadelphia! This should have never happened!" Hancock went on.

"John, for Christ's sake, calm down," Sam sighed.

He was tired, exhausted even. Despite the fact that his wound was not severe, the pain was still making his head spin. He just wanted to walk to his bedroom and sleep.

"Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" his cousin asked him as Sam was wincing again.

"No, I'll be fine. It's nothing serious."

"What are we going to do now?" Hancock asked anxiously. "We can't go back to Boston, but we can't stay here and change nothing to our habits."

"And yet that's exactly what we're going to do."

"You can't be serious?! They tried to kill us in the middle of the Congress..."

"What else could we do? We can go back to Boston, it's more than fine by me. I'd rather fight than stay here."

"But?" his cousin asked Sam, encouraging him to pursue.

"But Sarah says we should stay," Sam mumbled. "She says it's important."

"And she's right," Franklin nodded. "We need to convince these men. All of them. And it will take time. But it's the only way."

Hancock heaved a sigh.

"Many delegates will be scared. They won't want to come back to the Continental Congress."

"Yes they will. They won't have a choice. We'll tell them they have to," Sam said, his voice full of confidence.

"Do you think so?" his cousin asked.

"We'll go to the session tomorrow," Sam went on. "If there are some Delegates missing, we'll go look for them in their own homes and bring them back to the State House."

"How?"

"We'll convince them. We'll scare them. I don't know, anything."

"Sarah most definitely has a good influence on you," Franklin smiled. "It's obvious for someone who knows how much you hate these sessions."

Sam nodded, a small smile on his lips.

"I trust her. If she says that we need to convince these men, then we must find a way."

Hancock nodded, before taking a step towards his wounded friend, offering him his open palm.

"Thank you. You saved my life," he told Sam.

Sam smiled, shaking the merchant's hand.

"I guess I paid my debt now," he told Hancock, who smiled in response.

But Sam grew serious again, worried even.

"There's no need to tell Sarah about all this though," he said.

"Why would we hide what happened?" his cousin asked.

"She would have warned us if this was supposed to happen," he answered. "And she didn't say a thing. It can only mean...

"...That History has been changed already," Franklin breathed.

Sam nodded.

"She's still recovering from her wound. There's no need to get her worried with what happened today, not before she's here with us, safe."

He looked out by the window at the strangers who were walking down the street.

"There's no need to scare her with this for now. There are plenty of reasons to be afraid already."

* * *

The white sails were shining under the sun. White clouds upon the blue sea. They were just in time. James stared at the Red Coats coming out of the boat and onto the beach, carrying weapons and barrels, preparing their encampment for the evening.

"I guess you were right," Paul told James and Michael. " _Looks like they're going to come from Charleston._ We need tofinish to fortify Bunker Hill. _Let's move_."

They walked back towards the fortified hill.

"What about your devices against the canons?" Paul asked the two scientists.

"We've placed them at the distance you indicated. Let's hope they'll work."

"We won't hold for long if they have canons," Warren said.

"We won't hold for long even if they don't have canons," Revere replied.

They walked behind the fortified wall they had built into the hill.

"What do you mean?" Warren asked his friend.

Revere heaved a sigh.

" _Well, we don't have the ammunitions._ Even with James's powder, we don't have enough of it. _We're gonna get one, maybe two shots at most._ "

"They'll be there tomorrow, you can be sure of that," Warren said.

"We'd better finish to get ready then."

Michael and James exchanged a glance. They had a decision to take. A crucial decision. They both knew what Sarah wanted, but they were the ones to decide in the end.

They were the ones to warn Warren that he would die if he remained at Bunker Hill.

James made a movement towards Michael, but the American shook his head.

"We can't," Michael whispered , making sure that no one could hear his words except his best friend. "We can't change the past."

"We've already changed it," James argued.

But Michael was still hesitant.

"Michael, we won't have another chance," James went on. "He's our friend."

"What if it..."

"What if what? What could it do? He will probably help us sooner or later. We'll have one more good man on our side."

Michael stared at Warren. He was talking with Paul, finishing to organize the battle. At dawn, the British would come up here, and so many would die on both sides...

And despite his will to protect the future, Michael knew he couldn't let his friend die.

Michael heaved a sigh.

"We'd better warn him then," he told James, already striding towards the doctor.

He tapped on Warren's shoulder, forcing him to pay attention.

"Joseph, you need to stay with Sarah," Michael said.

Both Revere and Warren frowned.

"Why?" the doctor merely asked.

Michael heaved a sigh once again. He didn't reckon there was any good way to announce that someone was about to die.

"Because you're supposed to die at Bunker Hill," Michael said bluntly.

Revere and Warren exchanged a horrified glance.

"Are you sure?" Paul asked James.

"We are," the British man nodded.

"You must go before the battle begins," Michael told him. "You should join Sarah, make sure they are all safe there."

"I'm not going to leave you all here alone," Warren protested.

But Paul rested a soothing hand upon his arm.

"You'll be of no good if you're dead. You must save yourself. We will need you again before all of this is over, without a doubt. And anyway, what would we become without our favorite doctor?"

A sad smile appeared on the doctor's face.

"Alright then, I'll go right before the battle starts."

"No," James shook his head. "You must go now. We can't take the risk."

"If you go now, you can arrive at John Adams' house before nightfall."

Warren nodded.

"I'll pick up my stuff then."

"Take a riffle and some ammunitions as well, just in case."

Joseph nodded, and they all stared at him as he strode away through the fortified hill.

"If you're not telling me to go, is it because I'm not supposed to die?" Paul asked the two scientists.

James nodded.

"And we'll make sure you don't," Michael said, and his voice sounded like a vow.

* * *

Kelly hurried outside the house, a riffle in his hand, when he heard the sound of hooves approaching. Sarah and the others had run upstairs, waiting for him to tell them to come down. They were not expecting anyone, and Kelly couldn't take any risk. After the last message from Sam, where he had asked Kelly to protect Sarah at all cost, the Irishman was even more zealous than before.

It was nightfall, twilight was disappearing, the orange sky being replaced by dark shades of purple. Kelly leaned against the wooden barrier before the house, aiming in the direction of the only road that led to the house, waiting for the rider to appear at the corner of the path.

He couldn't refrain a sigh of relief when he recognized Warren riding towards him.

"Is everything all right?" Kelly asked the doctor, lowering his weapon.

"Yes, I'll tell you everything once we're inside," Joseph nodded, jumping down from his horse. "Don't worry, I wasn't followed."

Kelly nodded, and followed him inside the house, calling for the women and the children to come down again, but Abigail Adams asked her children to remain upstairs.

"What's going on?" Margaret asked, hurrying towards Warren.

The doctor intensely stared at Sarah.

"I'll stay here with you tomorrow," he answered slowly.

"Why?" asked Kelly, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Because..." Warren stuttered. "Because... Michael and James warned me in time."

"Warned you about what?" Margaret asked him.

He kept staring at Sarah.

"That I was supposed to die at Bunker Hill," he breathed.

They all turned to Sarah.

"Is it true?" Margaret Gage breathed, horror painted all over her face.

Sarah merely nodded. There was a long moment of silence, during which no one moved, stillness covering the house.

Finally, Warren cleared his throat.

"Well... While I'm here, I guess I should take a look at your wound, Sarah."

She nodded again, and they headed upstairs together.

She lied down on her bed and Warren examined her wound. It looked like it was almost healed, a mere red line crossing her stomach.

"It looks good," he reassured her. "You should be able to ride next week."

"Why not sooner if it looks good?" Sarah asked, trying to persuade him.

He snickered in response.

"I don't want to take any risk that it could reopen," he answered. "Next week, if you rest well the coming days."

She nodded, giving up and he wrapped a bandage around her again.

"Why didn't you tell me before about Bunker Hill?" Joseph finally asked.

She looked out by the window while he was wrapping the bandages around her stomach.

"Michael wasn't convinced we should tell you," she answered earnestly.

Joseph nodded.

"Do you think it will change anything tomorrow?" he asked her. "Because if you think that more of our men will die because I'm here instead of dying there..."

"I don't think it will make much of a difference," she interrupted him. "I don't think it will make any difference to be honest."

"But you have let men die before, to ensure that the timeline would remain unchanged. What's different this time?"

She winced at the memory of the Boston Massacre, that night when she had remained hidden in that house instead of trying to save lives out there in the street, that night that had cost her Sam's trust for years...

She thought about Lexington and Concord, and Kelly bleeding in this field, and the young man she had seen die by her side...

"It was different, Joseph. They were key events that caused all this insurrection to happen. But your death will not change anything."

Warren nodded.

"I feel like I should be out there though," he breathed. "Like it's cowardice to remain here."

"If you go there you will die."

"It's a risk I've always been ready to take."

"It's different though. We _know_ that you're going to die if you go there. There is no doubt. You're not taking a risk here. If you go out there, your death is a certainty."

He gave her a sad smile.

"Thank you, for warning me," he said.

He got up from her bed, and walked out, leaving Sarah alone.

She looked at the stars that were slowly appearing in the dark sky. The moon was still shy, and the world, not yet bathed by the light of the stars and the moon, was darker than ever, drowning in the shadows of the young night. She stood up and walked to the window, leaning against the windowpane and watching the darkness in the direction of Philadelphia. She wondered how Sam was. They hadn't exchanged any message that week, too afraid that their messages could be intercepted so close to the coming battle. She wondered where he was, what he was doing... Was he alright? Was he in any kind of danger?

But she was torn away from her thoughts as her gaze was drawn towards the trees. Something had caught her eyes, but it had been too discreet for her to identify it...

There, it was back, it looked... it looked like some kind of lantern...

Her eyes grew wide, and for a second, she couldn't move, nor speak, nor even breathe...

Red Coats were closing on the house.


	31. Battles

**Hey guys! Here comes a new chapter. I hope you didn't wait for too long, but as I had warned you, this chapter is longer than usual, it needed more time to be done.**

 **Two scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **Next update on Friday.**

 **Hope you like this chapter, and don't forget to tell me what you think about it :)**

* * *

 **Battles**

"Abigail, get the children, now!"

"Joseph, go with them, I'll stay behind and hold the Red Coats off."

"No, Kelly..."

Kelly grabbed the doctor by the shoulder, his riffle already in his hand.

"They'll need someone to defend them," he told the Warren. "Besides, I should be dead already. Sarah saved me, it's time I pay my debt. And I promised Sam that I'd take care of her for him. I intend to hold that promise."

Abigail appeared downstairs with her five children, carrying her younger son in her arms.

"What do we do?" she asked the two men.

Her voice was trembling, and her eyes, usually so calm and peaceful, seemed drowned in fear.

"Don't worry, Abby. We'll get you out of here."

"It's not me I'm worried about," she replied, her throat tight, looking down at her children.

Sarah suddenly appeared by her side, and picked up the little Charles Adams in her arms, wincing as the movement awakened pain in her side. The boy was silently crying. He was only five, he was too young to understand what was going on, but the look of fear on the adults' faces around him was enough to make him cry.

Margaret Gage and Mary arrived as well, and carried Susanna and John in their arms, leaving only the nine year old Abigail to walk by herself.

"We must make the children get out of here," Abigail told the two men.

Kelly took a look outside, but everything was still in the night.

"They must be waiting to be sure that we are all asleep," he breathed. "They're not coming our way."

"Or perhaps they're waiting for the charge at Bunker Hill," Sarah said.

"Anyway, if they've managed to surround the house, we won't be able to get out."

"We'll need a carriage, a cart, anything... But I don't see how we can flee with the children using only our horses."

"Maybe they haven't surrounded the house..." Abigail said, full of hope.

"Wait... Mary, do you still have this device James gave you to call him if you were in trouble?"

The woman nodded, and ran to her bedroom, coming back with the device in her hand.

"Do I call him then?" she asked.

"We don't have a choice, it's our only chance," Sarah said, looking at Kelly and Warren for their approval.

The two men nodded, and Mary called for help.

"Let's get upstairs," Joseph said. "We must watch their movements."

The doctor gave Sarah a riffle, before looking at the other three women.

"Can some of you shoot?" he asked them.

"Sarah taught us," Mary nodded.

Joseph and the scientist exchanged a smile.

"I should have known," he smiled.

"We'll take the children in my bedroom," Abigail said. "Nabby, get upstairs," she added to her elder daughter.

They all climbed upstairs, and hid the children under Abigail's bed. Abigail and Mary remained in the bedroom with the children, while the rest of them were getting each one in a room. They waited patiently, watching the trees all around the house. Sarah sat down next to the window, checking her rifle. Suddenly, she froze, looking at the desk next to the window. She grabbed a pile of papers and put them safely in her pocket, and pressed them against her heart through the fabric of her shirt. The feeling of the paper under her fingers made her calm down, she was less afraid all of a sudden.

Having his letters against her was a bit like having Sam by her side.

* * *

The English soldiers were coming. James was staring at the torches moving throughout the night on the shore. They were getting ready. At dawn, they would start their march on Bunker Hill. James looked at where Michael and him had placed their nitroglycerin. The night was too dark for him to see the ground there, but he stared at where he should have seen the dirt they had moved away and then put back to bury their bombs. He winced at the thought that something he had made was about to be used to kill men...

Suddenly, his pocket seemed to glow. He picked up the device, and stared at the red light that was piercing the night. His eyes widened.

The next second, he was storming into Revere's and Michael's tent.

"Wake up! Michael, Paul!"

"What?!" Michael growled, rubbing his eyes.

"Michael, Mary's calling for help!"

"What!?" Paul cried, sitting up.

"She's calling for help! Something's wrong at John Adams' house!"

Paul and Michael quickly stood up.

"We need to go out there and help them," Paul said.

"What if it's a trap?" Michael asked.

"We must go and help them," James replied.

"James is right," Paul nodded. "We must go."

"I'll go," James stated, and his tone was too firm to accept any argument. "I'll take a few of our men, and we'll go there. You two, you stay here, and you fight tomorrow."

"No, James, I'll go," Michael replied.

"It's not your wife who's calling for help."

Michael heaved a sigh.

"Alright then. Head directly for Philadelphia after you've helped them. We'll send news after the battle."

James nodded.

"Take guns, powder, everything you need. You can take twenty of our men," Peter told James, handing James his own pistol.

But the Englishman shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"You'll need it, Paul. Keep your gun. I already have one."

James hugged his two friends, wishing them silently good luck, before striding out of the tent to wake up the men who would accompany him to John Adams' house.

He didn't have a second to lose.

* * *

It had been several hours now that Mary had called for help. Sarah shifted, her leg numb after so much time spent sitting on the wooden floor. She tried to ignore the pain that had started to pierce her side. Her eyes were stinging because of her exhaustion. Regularly, she pressed her hand against her heart, feeling the paper under her shirt, and she felt braver every time Sam's face appeared before her eyes.

She turned around at the sound of someone crawling towards her.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" Kelly asked her, whispering.

"Yes, I'm fine. Still no movement on this side of the house," she answered, her tone matching his.

"Dawn is close, they will soon strike. Be careful."

She nodded.

"Sarah?"

"Yes, Kelly?"

"Whatever may happen, don't worry about me."

"Kelly..."

But he stopped her with a quick gesture of the hand.

"You've already saved me once. I've promised Sam that I would protect you."

"Kelly, I won't leave without you," she protested.

"We both know that Sam couldn't get over it this time. He can't lose the woman he loves again."

Sarah and Kelly intensely stared at each other through the darkness.

"You take Abby and the kids and you go, whatever may happen to Warren and me, do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Pssst..."

They both turned towards the room where Warren was hiding.

"There are movements down there, on my side of the house," Warren said, loudly enough so that everyone upstairs could hear.

Kelly hurried back into his bedroom.

"Yes, here too," Abigail breathed.

Sarah distinguished shadows moving at the border of the trees, though no man was exposed yet.

"Here too," Sarah said.

"They're moving all around the house," Kelly confirmed.

"Here we are then," Warren breathed. "They're coming for us."

Slowly, the Red Coats advanced, and soon Sarah was able to distinguish their silhouettes through the night...

... There were dozens of them all around the house...

"Don't fire before I tell you to," Kelly commanded. "Take aim."

Sarah raised her rifle, aiming through the window glass.

She followed the shape of a soldier as he walked slowly towards the house.

"Wait for it..." Kelly breathed.

Sarah's heart was pounding in her chest.

"Wait..."

She just hoped that she would have the chance to see Sam one more time...

"Wait..."

...one last time...

"Now!"

But before she could pull on the trigger, detonations echoed all around the house...

* * *

Sam woke up in a sweat. It had been weeks since he had had such an awful nightmare. He tried to calm down, sweeping the sweat away from his brow. He couldn't catch his breath. He nursed his head in his hands, struggling to make his rushing heart slow down.

He had seen her dying again, but this time it had been much more vivid than ever before. He could have sworn she was really there, in his arms, dying...

The door of his bedroom slowly opened, and Ben Franklin appeared on the threshold, carrying a candle. By his side, Hancock and John Adams were looking at him with a worried expression as well.

"Sam, are you okay?" his cousin asked him.

Sam swung his feet over the edge of the bed, still holding his head in his hands. He nodded.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice hoarse with sleep, his throat dry and painful. "Did I wake you up?"

"You were shouting, Sam," Hancock nodded.

Sam nodded again. At least, it explained his sore throat.

"It's nothing, just a nightmare. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Do you want anything?" Ben Franklin asked him.

Sam stood up, shaking his head.

"I'll just get some water. Thank you, to all of you. And sorry again for waking you up."

He walked down the stairs, closely followed by his three friends.

"You can go back to bed, I'm just fine," he reassured them all.

"We're all awake anyway," Franklin sighed. "I'll need my personal remedy against insomnia."

He picked up his best bottle of whiskey, along with three glasses. He didn't even offer a drink to Sam, and let the man pour himself a glass of water.

They all sat down at the table, all wrapped in silence. The candle, set in the middle of the round table, shed a shy light that barely enlightened the men's faces.

But despite his will to hide his worry, Sam couldn't help but frown. He rested his hand on his heart.

He had a bad feeling, a terrible feeling...

"What is it, Sam?" his cousin asked.

Sam shook his head.

"I have... I don't know, it's probably this nightmare playing with my mind. I have the feeling that... something terrible is happening, or has happened."

Franklin frowned.

"About what?" he asked.

Sam struggled to swallow.

"Sarah..."

* * *

There were detonations everywhere, the smell of powder was tickling her nostrils already, making her wrinkle her nose. There were flashes of lights as sparks escaped rifles beyond the cover of the trees. She could hear the children crying in the other room. She turned towards the door of her room again, as Kelly and Joseph were crawling in the corridor so that they could all hear them.

"James must have come to save us," Mary said, appearing on the threshold of her bedroom.

"And he has taken some of our men with him," Kelly nodded.

"What do we do then?" Abigail asked.

"We should try to escape," Sarah said. "The Red Coats are busy with James and his men, it's our chance."

"But, by which way?" Margaret asked.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door being broken...

"You all, stay here," Kelly ordered, and him and Joseph stood up as one man, their weapons at the ready. "Get all into one room."

The next second, Kelly and Joseph were hurrying downstairs, and Sarah found herself in Abigail's bedroom, holding tightly a shaking Charles Adams in her arms, sitting down against the wall, next to the window. She pointed her pistol towards the door.

"Margaret, block the door," she ordered.

Margaret pushed the bed against the door.

Outside, the detonations were still cutting the still air of the night. There were desperate cries and shouted orders coming from all around the house. She stroke softly the boy's hair, as he was sobbing against her shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's gonna be alright," she whispered to the boy. "We called for help, they're gonna get us out of here."

Some detonations echoed throughout the house, louder than all the others. They were coming from downstairs...

One, two, three, four, five shots...

The front door being violently closed...

Then silence in the house again. Just the sound of the children crying softly and the detonations and shouts that shook the air from outside, under the trees.

She held Charles more tightly against her.

She listened closely to all the sounds in the house, but there was nothing but silence...

If Red Coats had reached the house, there was no chance Kelly and Joseph could have held them off. Tears blurred her vision at the thought of what had most probably happened to her two friends.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of the wooden floor cracking. Someone was climbing up the stairs.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the sound of footsteps, trying to figure out where the man was, how many people were walking in the house...

She could count two... no three different steps. Three men were climbing the stairs.

Upon her closed eyelids, Sam's face smiling was all that she could see. A small smile played on her lips...

...His face being the last thing that she would see was enough...

The floor cracked in the corridor.

She opened her eyes.

The little _click_ of her pistol as she armed her gun echoed throughout the silent room. It seemed that for a moment no one was moving. Sarah could barely dare breathe.

Outside, the sun was slowly starting to rise. The sky had turned into a light shade of purple, stained with droplets of gold.

Dawn was breaking through the night...

There was another cracking outside.

She looked at the door again.

They were right before the bedroom...

* * *

Dawn was rising above the world, tearing the darkness of the night apart. Through the pale light of the morning, Revere could see the British troops approaching slowly towards them, leaving the safe shores. Next to him, Michael shifted, resting a hand upon the wall of mud and wood they had built into the hill.

"They're coming," Michael breathed.

"Are you ready for this?" Revere asked his friend.

"I reckon we don't have a choice but to be ready now anyway," Michael answered.

Paul stood up and headed back to the Encampment. Michael held the little device in his pocket. A switch that would start the explosions of the nitroglycerin from afar. Just a spark next to the flasks and the field would explode...

Revere reappeared, carrying the white flag upon which a snake cut into several pieces was painted, the name of the Colonies written under each piece of the animal, the phrase _Join or Die_ calling for all men in the colonies to join their cause. He planted the flag at the top of their poor fortress, before turning towards his men. These militia men who were about to fight and die by his side...

" _I know you're afraid but there's no shame in fear. Any man with something to lose fears death._ "

The British soldiers were now in formation, approaching Bunker Hill. It had begun...

" _Hold the high ground. They don't take this bunker! Ready your weapons!_ "

The next second, all the men were running to their position, checking their rifles, aiming at the British soldiers.

Revere guided some of their men down the bunker, hiding behind shelters they had built down the slope of the hill. As he was hiding behind the trunks, Revere watched the Red Coats pulling the canons. But...

When they stopped, they were 30 feet away from the line of nitroglycerin...

Revere turned around, sending a horrified glance at Michael, who was still in the bunker. The scientist stared at him with the same terror in his eyes.

They would not be able to destroy the canons before the British could use them...

Michael watched Gage turning towards a man on his left, giving an order.

Probably a rapid fire...

And indeed, the next second detonations echoed throughout the hills and the earth exploded next to Paul.

"Paul! Paul come back!" Michael cried.

"Retreat!" Paul ordered his men. "Get back to the bunker, now!"

They all started to run towards the fortifications. The cannonballs kept crashing in their ranks, digging holes on the ground, and...

A cannonball passed just inches away from Revere, and came crashing in the earth before him. The explosion it created made him fall to the ground, and for a moment, he felt like his ears had exploded. His mind was a blur mess, he couldn't think, he didn't even remember where he was. All he could feel was the dirt covering his face, and the grass mingled with mud under his fingers. He could vaguely hear his name being called from afar, but the voice was so weak to him, he didn't know if it was even real, or just his mind echoing in his own head.

He forced his body to sit up, and finally, he could see through the clouds of smoke and dust all around him. Just a few feet away from him, a young man was holding his stomach, blood covering his worn-out clothes. He seemed terrified...

The sight acted like a cold water thrown at his face. His mind started to work again, he remembered where he was, what he was doing there, why he was lying in the mud, why the air was filled with dust and the scent of gunpowder...

He crawled towards the boy, the rest of his men passing by him without stopping, running desperately towards the bunker.

Revere held the young man in his arms.

"It's okay, boy," he breathed. "You'll be okay."

He looked at Paul with such a terror, Paul's heart was aching.

"You're not alone, kid," Paul reassured him again.

But the boy's head fell backwards onto Paul's shoulder, his eyes still staring at the pale sky above them. Paul struggled to swallow, and closed the boy's eyes.

He threw a glance full of hatred at the Red Coats in the distance, before standing up again, letting the body of the boy fall on the slope of the hill.

And Paul kept running, and running up the slope to reach the fortifications.

"Come on, Paul!" Michael encouraged him, offering Revere his open hand to help him climb above the wall and jump back inside the bunker.

The next second, Revere was sitting next to Michael, struggling to catch his breath.

"Are you hurt?" Michael asked him.

"No, I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Michael, I'm fine."

"What do we do now?"

Revere glanced over the wall, taking a look at the British troops. There were thousands of them...

"Tell everyone to save their ammunitions," Paul told him. "We have to hold for at least the first charge."

Michael nodded, and Revere ran away, gathering his men, organizing them behind a wall, and they got ready to fire, waiting for the first British charge.

Paul stared at the wooden poles he had planted as marks so that he would know when to give the order to fire to his men.

" _Conserve your ammunitions,_ " he ordered to his men. " _Fire only on my command._ "

All over the bunker, an order was being passed from a commander to the other.

"Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes."

Paul focused on his rifle, checking the powder, the bullet... but everything was ready. He was ready.

There was a low noise through the fields, like a whisper that made the very air shiver.

When Paul looked up, the Red Coats were marching on Bunker Hill.

* * *

" _Hold your fire._ "

Paul stared at the British soldiers as they advanced slowly towards them. All that could be heard was the rhythm of the Red Coats' footsteps, and the distant whisper of the sea.

In his chest, his heart was pounding, it was almost the same sound that the British troops' footsteps.

 _Ba boum, ba boum, ba boum..._

He took aim at a young soldier. He guessed this boy was not above twenty...

 _Ba boum, ba boum, ba boum..._

He bent lower behind the fragile wall they had built, making sure to be protected by the pieces of wood. Meanwhile, the boy kept on walking, and every step he took was taking him closer to his death...

 _Ba boum, ba boum, ba boum..._

The boy he was aiming at seemed completely terrified...

 _Ba boum, ba boum, ba boum..._

They arrived at the first pole he had planted in the ground...

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum..._

Soon, the second pole was lost in the middle of the British soldiers.

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba..._

They arrived at the third and last mark...

...And Paul gave his men the order to fire as he pulled on his own trigger, a cloud of smoke mingled with sparks almost instantly escaping from his rifle.

The next second, the young man was lying on the ground, holding his neck, desperately twisting on the ground.

And then all was smoke and powder and sparks and blood flying through the air...

Paul handed his rifle to the man on his right, and the next second, a new rifle, all ready to fire again, was in his hand.

He bent over, hiding behind the wall of wood as the British were firing at them. Next to him, a man shouted, and Paul looked at him as he held his arm. The bullet had crossed the shoulder...

Revere looked above the fortifications again, took aim, and shot...

Another body joined the lifeless forms on the ground.

In only a few minutes, most of the soldiers were lying on the ground, the earth already drenched with fuming blood. In the open, climbing the hill, they had no chance anyway. For now, the Militia had enough ammunitions to push the British soldiers away.

The leader of the British troops called his men, his voice ringing throughout the air, above the sound of detonations...

" _Retreat!_ "

The next second, the few British survivors were running back toward Gage, fleeing the slaughter.

Paul heaved a deep sigh, and when he looked up again, Michael was crawling towards him.

"Are you all right? Are you unhurt?" Michael asked his friend.

Revere merely nodded.

"You?" he asked the scientist.

"One was rather close," Michael answered, a smile on his face as he showed Paul a little hole on his sleeve. "But I'm unhurt for now."

"We won't hold another charge."

"I know."

"Any brilliant idea?"

"We could use the nitroglycerin."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"I thought it was only to be used only against canons, bridges... not against people," Paul answered.

"It's rather awful to die like this... blowing up, don't you think?"

"And yet ?"

"It's the only advantage we have."

"How many did we lose?"

Around them, the men were whispering, fear painted all over their faces again.

Paul and Michael turned as one man towards the British soldiers...

The Marines, led by Major Pitcairn, were advancing towards them.

"Too many already," Michael answered Paul's question. "The canons did lots of damage. And we lost two barrels of powder as well. Canons again."

Paul heaved a frustrated sigh, before taking a rifle again.

"Make them blow up when you have the chance," he instructed.

Michael nodded without any other word, and crawled back towards his own position in the fortifications.

He took the device out of his pocket, this little switch that would make the line of nitroglycerin explode. He reckoned that the best was to wait for half the troops to reach the right spot. The battalion would then be split in two. In his chest, his heart was racing.

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum..._

He couldn't believe he was about to kill so many people. He just couldn't.

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum..._

Maybe if he closed his eyes, and then opened them again, he would be back in his bed. The nightmare would be over. All this powder, and this smoke, and this blood on his hands and all around him would be gone.

He looked above the fortifications again, just a quick glance. He couldn't keep staring out there, the British were firing.

They were only a few feet away from the explosives...

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum..._

He hoped Sarah and James would forgive him for this...

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba boum..._

He hoped _he_ would forgive himself for this...

Another quick glance above the wall.

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba..._

It was time, it was now or never, the British troops were walking upon the buried charges, he had to do it, and he had to do it now, at this moment, now, he couldn't wait, he had to, even if he didn't want to, even if he knew he would never forgive himself for that...

He tightly closed his eyes, and his thumb pushed the switch down.

* * *

"Wait till you can see them," Sarah whispered to the other women, who were also pointing their guns at the door.

The doorknob turned, and the door was pushed, but remained blocked by the bed.

Sarah aimed right at the middle of the door, the height that was very likely to be the level of the soldier's chest or stomach.

She could barely breathe, all she could feel was her racing heart...

 _Ba ba boum, ba ba boum, ba ba ..._

But...

"Sarah? Mary? Open the door, it's us."

The next second, Mary was pushing the bed away and opening the door to discover Warren, Kelly and James on the threshold. She rushed into her husband's arms.

Sarah heaved a relieved sigh, lowering her gun.

"I knew you'd come," Mary whispered, holding James tightly in her arms, crying against his shoulder.

"Well, you called for me," he smiled. "And I did promise you that I would always come if you called, didn't I?"

She nodded, looking up at him, and they exchanged a smile, and then a sweet kiss.

"We thought you were Red Coats," Sarah told her friends, as she stood up, carrying Charles in her arms.

"We don't have much time," James said. "We are outnumbered, we must make you get out now, while the Red Coats are busy chasing our men throughout the woods."

"What do you propose?" Abigail asked him.

"My men brought a cart. You all go in with the children. Kelly and Warren will go with you."

"I'll take a horse," Kelly said.

"They'll protect you. You just have to reach the main road, then you can ride to Philadelphia safely enough."

"What about you?" Mary asked him.

"Don't worry about me, I'll stay until you're safe. I'll keep the soldiers occupy."

"You should come with us..."

But he took her face in his hands.

"These are _my_ men out there, love. I can't leave them here. I have to get them out of here as well."

He looked at Sarah.

"You go, use the path behind the house, and reach the main road. Go directly to Philadelphia. And whatever happens, don't come back for us."

She nodded.

"You'll be all right?" she asked him.

"I'm a real warrior, now. You haven't noticed," he answered with a small smile.

They exchanged a smile.

"Okay, let's do it then," James said, taking a deep breath. "We'll leave the house using the back door, the cart is there. Let's go."

They headed downstairs, the women carrying the children again, and once more, only the nine year old girl was walking down the stairs by herself, until Kelly noticed her and picked her up as well in his strong arms.

James took a look outside by the back door, but all was quiet in that part of the house, as his men had drawn the English soldiers to the other side of the house.

"Let's go," he whispered, and he guided the little group outside.

They placed the children safely in the cart.

"Lie down, and don't move nor speak," Abigail instructed. "You must stay very still and very silent, do you understand?"

They all nodded, despite their silent cries.

"I'll take care of that," Mary said as she jumped at the front of the cart, and started to guide the horses towards the trees.

"Be careful," Sarah told James, hugging him.

"Don't worry about me, now go, I'll make sure you're not followed."

She nodded, letting go of her best friend, and jumped into the cart as well. Kelly mounted his horse, his rifle at the ready, while Warren was jumping next to Mary. The three other women were at the back of the cart with the children, looking carefully all around them, their weapons at the ready.

Mary looked desperately at James, before the cart would disappear beyond the trees.

And James turned back towards the house, his rifle ready. He knew they had very little time before the Red Coats would enter the house and find out it was empty. He knew they had little time before having to call for a retreat.

But he intended to give his friends as much time as he could...

* * *

He was deaf. For a second all he could hear was a high buzzing noise that seemed to pierce his brain like a drill. All around him, the men had thrown themselves down on the ground.

He didn't think the detonations would be so loud.

He risked a glance over the wall of the fortification again, his ears slowly stopping to buzz. He could hear the shouts of the men around him now, though they sounded like they were far away.

In the middle of the field, there was now a large hole on the ground. All around, soldiers were trying to get back on their feet. He heard Paul's order in the distance.

"Shoot!"

Michael picked up his rifle next to him, and aimed at an officer who was trying to stand up. A moment later, the man fell on the ground.

Soon, no one was standing in the field anymore, and the detonations stopped.

Paul crawled to Michael.

"We're short in ammunitions," he told the scientist.

"Do we have enough for another attack?" Michael asked him.

But Paul shook his head.

"We have one shot, that's all."

"Paul, we should get out of here."

Revere nodded, before being interrupted by the low noise of the canons firing at them again.

"They're coming back!" a man shouted next to them.

Indeed, British soldiers were running through the hole now, hurrying towards them.

"Oh... shit..." Michael cursed, aiming again.

But after only one shot, there were no ammunitions left...

" _Retreat!_ " Revere ordered. " _Let's go, everyone get out!_ "

He grabbed Michael's arm, hurrying out of the bunker, as the first Red Coats were climbing the wall of their fortification.

They had crossed half the bunker, when Paul fell to the ground with a loud cry.

"Paul! Paul!" Michael cried, kneeling by Revere' side.

"I'm fine, help me get on my feet."

Michael took his pistol, and shot the soldier who had wounded Revere, before helping the Colonist getting back on his feet.

"You're okay?" he asked as they kept on running away from the bunker.

"It's just my arm, I'll survive," he answered.

Michael helped him getting out of the bunker. Before leaving, he threw one last glance behind him.

The Red Coats were still firing at the fleeing minutemen. Up at Bunker Hill, the flag of the Colonists had been put down.

Now, the British flag was standing proudly above the dead men.

* * *

They had almost reached the main road, they were almost there...

The sun was high enough now to give the sky a pale shade of blue. Fog was covering the grass, hiding the path throughout the trees.

In the distance, they could hear the gunshots at Adams' house.

Sarah just hoped that James would be safe...

Suddenly, there was a sound of cracking wood on her left, through the trees...

She just caught a glimpse of red...

"Kelly!" she called for help.

Before the Irishman had reached her, she had taken aim at the Red Coat who was following them, and shot him, his horse still running through the trees despite the soldier's fall from its back.

Warren spotted another soldier on their right, and took aim. He missed, the bullet remaining stuck in a trunk. Although, Kelly didn't miss, and the soldier soon fell on the ground in a thud as well.

"Any other?" Mary asked.

Sarah shook her head.

"I don't think so."

"If these ones have managed to catch up on us, we can be sure that more could attack us again," Kelly said.

"Do you think we'll be safe once we've reached the main road?" Abigail asked him.

Kelly shook his head.

"I don't think we'll be safe till we reach Philadelphia."

There was another crack coming from behind them, and they all turned towards the noise, their guns at the ready...

But the two men who were riding on the same horse were not dressed in red uniforms...

"James!" Mary cried, recognizing her husband.

He was holding on Amos, who's shirt was covered with blood.

"Are you two okay?" Sarah asked them.

They slowed down so that the two men could catch up on them, but didn't dare stop.

"I'm fine," James nodded. "Amos was shot."

"On the leg, but I'll be just fine, it's a flesh wound," he reassured them.

"We need to get out of here," Warren told him. "Do you think your leg can wait?"

"Sure, we need to go."

"Get in the cart," Kelly ordered the wounded man, helping him to sit next to Abigail.

"We must hurry," Sarah said. "Were you followed?"

James shook his head.

"You shot the two soldiers that were giving us trouble."

"What about the rest of your men?"

"I've sent them back to the Encampment, told them to find Paul. But I came back to the house when I saw that Amos was missing, and then I couldn't get away towards the Encampment. The Red Coats were already heading that way."

"Only two of them saw us fleeing," Amos nodded. "They followed us this way, but... I don't think the other Red Coats noticed us as we left the house."

"How many men did you lose?" Kelly asked James.

"Two. We took two more wounded with us, plus Amos, of course. The Red Coats were not expecting us, that's for sure."

Kelly nodded.

"Do you think we should try to reach the Encampment, instead of Philadelphia?" Amos asked. "I mean, it's closer."

"We can't go in that direction anymore," James shook his head.

Amos nodded slowly, his throat suddenly tightening.

"It's just... I'm worried about Paul and Michael..."

"Don't worry about them, I'm sure they'll be fine," Sarah reassured, resting a soothing hand on his shoulder.

Amos nodded slowly one more time.

"All right, to Philadelphia then."

But they had not travelled far before Warren would suddenly frown.

"Do you smell that?" he asked, wrinkling his nose. "It smells..."

"Like burning wood..." Sarah nodded.

Suddenly, Abigail was gasping loudly her hand flying up to her mouth.

There was smoke coming up from the trees behind them, covering the pale blue sky.

"No..." she breathed, tears already rolling down her eyes.

Sarah rested a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Abby," she mumbled, not really knowing what to do.

They finally reached the main road, leaving the cover of the trees. All around them, there was no noise, not even birds singing. But in the cart, Abigail couldn't hold back her tears.

"My home..." she breathed.

Margaret held on the crying woman against her, trying to reassure her. But nothing would calm her down.

They didn't stop, nor turned around. They couldn't. They had to keep going.

And so they kept on riding towards Philadelphia, looking at the dark column of smoke that was raising above the treetops and covering the sky, staring at these vestiges of this house that had welcomed them all and protected them as it was burnt to the ground.

* * *

Nothing could have prepared him to the scene that was displayed before his eyes. He had never seen anything of the kind. The horror was too great, the sorrow too painful for him to put words on his feelings.

Michael blankly stared at all the corpses that were aligned in the field, covered with white sheets and pieces of clothing. Revere patted his shoulder.

"We need to count how many men we lost," he told Michael.

The scientist nodded, advancing towards the motionless forms lying down Bunker Hill. Pollens were flying all around them, like white balls of cotton, and it seemed like it was snowing. They were covering the corps like a smooth and warm layer of everlasting snowflakes.

After a few minutes, a man approached them. A deep cut was crossing his brow, and dry blood was covering the side of his face.

"Mr. Revere?" he asked Paul.

"Yes?"

"I was under the command of James Williamson, Sir. I went to defend John Adams' house."

"What happened? Could they escape?" Michael urged him.

"Yes, Sir. Everyone in the house was evacuated. They left and headed for Philadelphia. I do not know if they reached the main road though. We had to retreat quickly after they left the house."

"Where is James?"

But the man shrugged.

"He ordered the retreat, and made sure we would get out of this mess. But Mr. Amos was missing. So he went back to look for him. One of the guys saw them fleeing on a horse. They couldn't come back our way, because of the Red Coats, that is. They must have headed for Philadelphia."

"You don't know if they reached the road?"

"No, Sir. The Red Coats chased us for a while. They burnt the house too. We didn't dare go back there. And our orders were to come here and find Mr. Revere to make a report of the situation."

"You did very well," Revere nodded. "Thank you so much for your help."

"At your service, Sir."

He left them, and Paul patted Michael's shoulder. He could see all the fear and worry in his eyes...

"Don't worry. I'm sure they'll reach Philadelphia safely."

* * *

It was just one more useless debate. Dickinson had monopolized the attention one more time, to Ben Franklin's annoyance, as he was also delegate for Pennsylvania, but never seemed to have the occasion to speak.

Sam had to admit it was hard for him to stay focused. Since he had had this nightmare of his, he hadn't been able to find rest again, merely dozing from time to time, but never really sleeping. And this torturous feeling in his stomach that told him that something terrible was going on with Sarah was still there. And yet there was nothing he could do, and he knew it. But it was killing him all the same...

Hancock nudged Sam, forcing him to pay attention again.

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes as Dickinson was speaking to them again. He crossed his arms before his chest, and leaned into his chair, staring at the delegate.

" _No one is asking you to abandon hostilities,_ " he said holding Sam's stare now. " _We're not blind to the plight of your..._ "

" _Then why do you insist on being so unhelpful?_ " Sam snapped trough gritted teeth, interrupting Dickinson.

John Adams rested a hand on his cousin's arm, trying to calm him down. But there was suddenly noise beyond the door of the hall, and most delegates looked in that direction, barely listening to Dickinson now.

" _Our forefathers thrived on a sacred union with England. I for one am not prepared to destroy that bond. Not while war is still evitable._ "

The sound of voices reached the delegates, and some of them stood up.

After the attack from one of Gage's men, they were all quite tensed.

Suddenly the door opened...

...on a little boy.

"Charles?" John Adams frowned, recognizing his son.

Soon, all his children had walked into the hall, looking for him in the middle of the delegates. A second later, Abigail came in as well, holding one of her daughters in her arms. She looked desperately for her husband in the middle of the delegates who were all standing by now.

"John...?"

Her husband hurried towards her, whilst the room was shaken by whispers and interrogations.

What were these children and this woman doing there...?

"Abby..." he called his wife as he hurried towards her. "What are you doing here?"

She rushed into his arms, whilst his children were all clinging desperately at his legs.

"John, it was so scary..." she breathed, shaking in his arms, and by the sound of her voice he knew she was crying.

"What happened?" he asked again.

He knew that everyone in the room was staring at them, but he didn't care. She was too upset for him to care about anything else than her and their children anyway.

"They attacked the house..." she stuttered, her voice breaking as she sobbed "they... they burnt our house..."

She sobbed again, and he held her more tightly in his arms, tears blurring his vision.

"It's alright," he tried to reassured her, his voice hoarse with sorrow. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head.

"And the children? Everybody's alright?" he asked, looking down at his children.

Abigail, along with the kids, nodded.

"Then it's all that matters," he breathed. "You're all fine, and it's all that matters. It's all that matters..."

In the room, everyone was still and silent. No one really knew how to react.

Sam was petrified, his eyes wide, his lips parted with shock, his heart racing in his chest. He couldn't dare think about the possibility that was slowly taking shape in his mind.

If the house had been attacked...

He suddenly walked towards the crying couple.

"Abby, where is Sarah?"

Hancock and Franklin exchanged a terrified glance.

"Abby?" Sam called again, his voice soft despite the obvious terror that was making it shake. "Where is Sarah? And Kelly? And Joseph? Where are they?"

"Right here."

He spun around at the sound of the voice behind him, and he stared as Sarah was walking into the room, along with Warren and Kelly.

His heart had stopped...

Her shirt was covered with blood.

"Sarah..." he gasped, his eyes wide in terror as he stared at the red stains on her shirt.

"It's not mine," she reassured him, guessing his thoughts. "I'm fine, Sam."

He looked up at her, clearly struggling to keep his composure.

"Amos was shot," Warren explained. "She helped me patching him up."

He turned towards Ben Franklin.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Franklin. But I will need a place where I can properly take care of his leg."

"Of course, you're more than welcome to come to my house," Franklin answered.

"Is he going to make it?" Hancock asked the doctor.

But Joseph reassuringly smiled.

"It's a flesh wound, and Amos is a strong man. He'll be alright. He will merely limp for a while."

Meanwhile, Sam was still staring at Sarah, silent. She could guess tears shining in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't dare hold her in his arms, or even speak to her. Not before so many people.

But just through his glance she could see the tidal wave of emotions that was rushing upon him at that moment.

"If you need anything..." Washington started to propose, taking a step towards them.

"I'm sure that Dr. Franklin will take good care of us, thank you very much," Sarah thanked him with a smile. "I'm sorry we interrupted your session, but..."

"There is nothing to be sorry for," Washington reassured her, brushing away her remark by a vague gesture of his hand.

"Excuse me, but... I am afraid I do not understand plainly what is happening right now. Who attacked you?" Dickinson slowly asked Abigail, as she had finally managed to stop crying.

But it was Sam who answered, his voice shaking with fury and hate, his jaws clenched, his eyes burning with wrath.

"Who do you think could have done something like this?" he asked back through gritted teeth. "Sending troops to kill women and children? To burn a family's house?"

There was a long silence. Suddenly, all Sam wanted to do was to leave this place. He hated the feeling of these delegates' stares set upon him. And he needed to talk to Sarah alone...

"We should go," he told his cousin. "We need to settle everyone down, and take care of Amos."

"Of course, we will gather again tomorrow," George Washington reassured the delegates from Boston, looking at John Adams. "Rest, take care of your family."

Hancock nodded, and he walked towards the door, closely followed by Ben Franklin.

"Let's go," he said, helping Abigail to guide the children outside again.

They walked out of the hall, and joined James and Amos outside.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked his friend.

Amos looked up at him, a small smile on his face. He looked tired, and was paler than usual, but he didn't seem like his life was endangered.

"I'll be alright, Sam," he reassured his friend. "It's a flesh wound. I just need to rest."

Sam offered him his open hand.

"Thank you, for saving them."

"Anytime, Sam," Amos smiled, shaking his friend's hand.

"We'll take you to Franklin's house. Joseph will finish to take care of you."

"Don't worry, Sam. He'll be fine," James reassured him as well.

"What about you?"

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

Sarah appeared by their side.

"Let's go, Dr. Franklin will take us to his house."

Soon, they had arrived to the elder man's home, and Amos was carried into one of the bedrooms. John Adams also disappeared quickly with Abigail and their children, leading them into his room.

"I think I'll rest a bit," Sarah told the rest of them, but her eyes were glued to Sam.

"You can take any room you want," Franklin told her.

"I'll show you," Sam offered.

They climbed up the stairs together, and Hancock, Kelly and Franklin exchanged an amused smile.

He guided her upstairs, and pointed three doors on his right.

"The three rooms here are free," he told her.

"Where is yours?" she asked him.

He nodded towards the fourth door.

She smiled, before walking to the third room, right next to Sam's. She walked into the room, and waited for Sam to enter as well, but he remained on the threshold for a moment. She turned towards him, raising an eyebrow.

"Sam?" she asked.

They stared at each other for a while. She could see he was struggling to hold back his tears.

"Sam, I'm fine," she reassured him again. "I wasn't hurt."

He struggled to swallow, his jaws clenched, before stepping into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and he rushed towards her. The next second, she was trapped in his strong arms.

"You're sure you're all right?" he asked her, making shivers run up her spine as his breath tickled her cheek.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm fine, Sam," she repeated one more time.

He dropped a soft kiss in her hair, and heaved a deep sigh. She ran a soothing hand in his hair and she could feel his whole body relax under her gentle touch.

"You should have come here since the beginning..." he said.

"I couldn't ride by then."

"You scared me so much."

"But all is fine in the end. I'm unhurt, James and his men came just in time."

He loosened a bit his hold on her, so that he could look at her infinite blue eyes. He had missed these oceans so much...

"How is your wound?" he asked, concern still furrowing his brow.

"It doesn't hurt. And Joseph has taken a look at it a few hours ago, before we would reach Philadelphia. All is well."

He nodded, and rested his brow against hers. He heaved a sigh again.

"I'm never bored with you, that's for sure," he smiled.

She laughed.

"But that's why you love me so much."

He took her face in both his hands, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks.

"That's probably true," he breathed.

She seemed to remember about something, and she freed himself from his embrace to take the letters out of her pocket and put them down on the bed behind her.

"It's all I could save," she said, as Sam was recognizing his own handwriting on the envelopes.

"You should change," he said, his eyes drifting towards her stained shirt. "I'll see if I can find you some clothes. I'll bring you water as well."

But he didn't move towards the door. Instead, he took her hand, pulling her closer to him again. He lost his hand in her hair.

She finally realized how close their lips were.

"I've missed you, Sam," she whispered, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"I've missed you as well, Sarah."

The space between their lips, which was already little, shrank even more.

"Now, you're staying here," he told her. "You're staying here safely in Philadelphia with me, where I can look after you."

She smiled.

"That's a deal."

He finally closed the gap between their lips, and kissed her passionately.

Soon, they were gasping for air.

"Sam..." she breathed.

But he shushed her with another intense kiss, and all she could do was run her hands through his hair and melt in his arms.

"From now on," he stated, his eyes still closed, his lips inches away from hers, "I never let you out of my sight. And I'm not asking for your opinion."

She smiled.

"You will have to let me out of your sight though," she teased him. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be much of a gentleman, and it's not your style."

He softly laughed.

"You know what I meant. I'm keeping you near me. I'll take care of you."

She buried her head in the crook of his neck, breathing deeply his scent of musk and coffee. He dropped a sweet kiss on her brow, and he let his lips rest there for a while.

"Taking care of me... That's what you've been doing for years now, Sam."


	32. Aftermath

**Here's a new chapter!**

 **Thank you so much for your review CalaisForever! It means the world to me, you can't imagine how glad I was when I read your review!**

 **I'm going away on holiday for 2 weeks, and I'm not sure I'll have wifi or anything of the kind during this couple of weeks (I'm getting lost in the Mountains), so I will probably only update at the beginning of August now.**

 **Three scenes were taken from the series here.**

 **I hope you like this chapter, and please, tell me what you thought about it :)**

* * *

 **Aftermath**

She couldn't sleep. After all that had happened she just couldn't. She had slept during the trip to Philadelphia out of exhaustion, but now she wasn't that much tired. And the sight of the Red Coats surrounding John Adams's house was painted all over her closed eyelids.

She heaved a sigh. She couldn't control the feeling of fear that tightened her heart.

Amos would be fine, he would limp for a few weeks, and Joseph wanted him to stay in bed for a few days, but he would be okay. John Adams would be looking for a house of his own, as his family was now in Philadelphia, and Ben Franklin seemed happy to help. All seemed to be alright, in the end...

But she still didn't have any news from Michael and it was killing her.

She stood up, lit up a candle and dressed up, putting on a white shirt Sam had given her (and by the size of it, it was probably one of his, although he refused to admit it in front of her, of course), and a pair of brown trousers. She then walked towards the door and into the corridor, and rested her ear against the door next to hers. There was no sound in the room. She looked down at the ground, and could see the trembling light of a candle licking the wooden floor right before the door. She knocked softly at the door, loudly enough to be heard from inside the room, but not quite enough to wake him up if he was asleep.

"Sam?" she whispered, afraid of waking up the rest of the residents.

But the door didn't open, and she heaved a deep sigh before turning towards the staircase, deciding to read for a while, until she was tired enough to sleep.

But the door behind her creaked and when she turned around, Sam was standing before her, wide awake.

"Sarah? Is everything all right?" he asked her in a low whisper, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Yes. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

But he shook his head.

"I was merely reading."

He seemed worried though, tired. As if... he had learned bad news right before she would knock on his door.

"Can I do anything for you?" he asked her.

She shrugged, hoping he wouldn't notice her embarrassment, and her reddening cheeks.

"I just couldn't sleep."

He smiled a rather playful smile, leaning casually against the door frame, crossing his arms before his chest.

She couldn't fail to notice that the upper buttons of his shirt were opened and let her have a pretty good view of the top of his chest. She forced herself to look at his dark eyes instead, her heart rushing in her chest, not admitting to herself that if she was focusing on his glance it was only because she was afraid he would notice and close his shirt.

"So... you can't sleep, and the first person you think about is me?" he teased her.

But he was taken aback by how earnest her answer was.

"I always think about you anyway. I've done so for years."

They stared at each other for a moment, and his eyes softened, the joking sparkles replaced by tenderness.

"You want to come in?" he asked, nodding towards his bedroom. "Or you want us to go downstairs?"

She gave him a small smile.

"I don't want to bother you."

"You never bother me, Sarah."

She walked towards him, and he made room for her to walk in his bedroom.

It was pretty messy, and somehow she wasn't much surprised. Some dirty clothes had been thrown in a corner of the room. On the other side, right under the window, there was a desk covered with ink, quills and papers, along with an old chair. Two candles, both almost completely melted, were set on the desk, shedding a golden light all over the room. A bed filled up the rest of the room, along with a little stool that Sam used as a bedside table.

She guessed he must have taken the smallest room available, the one with the less beautiful furniture. Because it was so much like him to do so.

"I'm sorry for the mess," he mumbled, running a hand in his messy dark hair, clearly embarrassed.

"It's not that bad," she smiled. "You should have seen Michael's room at University."

He smiled back at her, though he had to admit that he didn't really know what to do now that she was standing in his bedroom.

She walked to the desk, and took a look at what he had been doing before she interrupted him.

She frowned at the sight of a series of numbers. Clearly, he had been counting something.

"What are these?" she asked him, pointing at the paper.

He blushed fiercely, and took her hand, pulling her away from the desk.

"Nothing..."

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. But it's not any concern of yours."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude or anything."

"I know you didn't."

"Why do you not want to tell me?"

"I don't reckon I _have_ to tell you."

They stared at each other for a moment. And he knew she didn't like the fact that he was hiding something from her.

"Why are you so uncomfortable all of a sudden?" she asked softly.

"I'm not."

"Sam..."

She freed her hand from his gentle hold.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you," she breathed.

She started towards the door, but he caught her wrist before she could leave the room.

"Sarah..."

"You were busy, I'm sorry..."

"Don't go."

He pulled her closer to him again, but she fled his dark eyes.

"Let's just... not talk about this," he said softly, trying to convince her.

"You don't usually hide anything from me," she replied.

"You do though."

She rolled her eyes.

"I haven't in a long time. And only to protect the timeline. Has it anything to do with saving your life?"

He smiled softly shaking his head.

"Then it's not a good argument," she stated.

He remained silent, and she finally heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry, you're right. You don't _have_ to tell me everything," she said. "I just..."

"You just want to know anyway," he interrupted her.

She shrugged.

"Well, I'm a scientist. Curiosity is in my very nature."

He chuckled, resting his free hand on her cheek, forcing her to look up at him.

"I just... I'm just ashamed of that, I guess..."

She frowned.

"What are you ashamed of?" she asked.

He looked down at his feet.

"I've counted all the money I have left," he breathed.

He shook his head, his throat tightening.

"It's far from enough."

"Enough to do what?" she asked, her voice soft and soothing.

He struggled to swallow.

"To... buy you a beautiful house and..."

She shushed him, resting her fingers upon his lips. He looked up at her.

"We've had this conversation before," she told him, a small smile on her lips. "I don't care about money..."

"But..."

"There's no 'but'. We'll figure something out. It doesn't matter."

She took his face in her hands.

"It doesn't matter, Sam. At least, you can be sure I don't love you for your money."

They laughed softly.

"I just want to be with you, it's all that matters," she reassured him.

He nodded slowly, before resting his brow against hers.

"It still worries me. The idea that... I can't take care of you, the idea that I can't give you what you deserve."

"You're talking utter nonsense," she smiled. "You really are silly sometimes."

"And you way too optimistic."

A sad smile appeared on her lips, and she seemed worried all of a sudden, scared even. She took a step back, going away from Sam.

"Do you think Paul and Michael are okay?"

It was Sam's turn to take her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his calloused thumbs in a reassuring gesture.

"Of course they're okay," he answered. "Paul is a tough man, he'll take care of Michael."

Sarah smiled.

"Michael stayed to take care of Paul, you know?" she laughed.

"They'll be just fine. I'm sure we'll receive news tomorrow."

"I hope you're right."

"Talking about our friends..." he added slowly, looking cautiously at her. "I... I'm afraid they have all guessed about... us. I mean, Hancock, John and Franklin know, that's for sure."

"Kelly and Warren too," Sarah nodded. "Did you tell them?"

"No, they guessed. Because of the letters I think... and because of the way I behave when it comes to you in general..."

She smiled.

"It's a good thing that they know."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it bother me?"

Sam shrugged in response.

"I don't know," he said. "I mean... you could want it to be secret."

"I don't want this to be a secret, Sam."

He nodded, smiling.

"Very well then."

He didn't tell her his next thought. He didn't tell her that in this time and place, it was not seen as a good thing to have the kind of relationship they shared without being married, or at least engaged.

He knew it was different where she came from. And he reckoned it was better to take it slow. His life was complicated enough without her rejecting him. So instead of sharing his thoughts with her, he merely smiled, stroking tenderly her cheek.

Because after all, it was all that mattered to him really. That she would give him a chance to show her all the love he felt.

He finally noticed that the dark marks under her eyes were widening.

"You're tired, you should try to sleep."

She stared at him.

"I... I don't think I can sleep."

"Why couldn't you?" he asked her back.

He saw her hesitating, before whispering, her voice weak and vulnerable all of a sudden.

"I... I'm scared."

She shrugged.

"With Michael and Paul being away, and what happened at the house I'm... I'm scared."

Sam wrapped his strong arms around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm here," he whispered against her hair. "Nothing will happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you."

She let out a heavy sigh.

"Can I stay with you?" she asked.

Sam stopped breathing.

"Of course, you'll take the bed."

She chuckled.

"You're not sleeping on the ground," she stated.

"We can't sleep in the same bed, Sarah..."

She rolled her eyes, looking up at him again.

"We are both entirely dressed," she pointed out, and an amused smile crept up on her lips. "And I'm already wearing one of your shirts anyway, we're heading in that direction."

Sam blushed fiercely. And that was honestly the cutest thing in the world.

"I couldn't find anything..." he started, his tone apologetic.

"I love your shirt," she laughed. "It smells like you."

They stared at each other for a moment again.

"So...?" she asked, a little smile on her lips.

"You really do trust me," he pointed out.

"I do."

He knew he was not supposed to accept. But he didn't feel like he was about to do something wrong.

"As you wish," he merely answered.

She took his hand, and they walked to the bed, lying down side by side. The furniture was meant only for one person, and they couldn't fit in the little bed without holding on each other tight. Which was more than fine by both of them, except that they were sure they would end up with a heart attack, judging by how fast their hearts were pulsing in their chests. On the desk, one of the candles went out.

"Good night, Sam," Sarah whispered, closing her eyes, her head falling and rising with the rhythm of his calm breathing as it rested upon his chest.

"Good night, Sarah," Sam answered, his tone matching hers, holding her hand in his.

They were both asleep when the second candle died out.

* * *

When they entered the State House again the next day, it was surprising to see the look of worry and compassion in the delegates' eyes. Sam despised them still, but he had to admit that their behaviour was kind for most.

George Washington had been particularly kind, asking if they wished to cancel the congress that day, so that they could spend some time with their families. But they declined the offer. Things needed to change in Boston, and they needed to change now. Washington merely nodded, a supporting smile on his face, and went back to sit at his own table.

Even Dickinson spoke to them with something else in his voice than anger and disdain. He walked towards Hancock, Sam and John as they sat at their table. Ben Franklin was already sitting by their side, staying with them for a while before going to his table, as a delegate from Pennsylvania.

"Gentlemen," he said, his tone soft. "How is your family, Mr. Adams?"

John nodded reassuringly.

"They are all fine, thank you, Mr. Dickinson. Still a bit shocked, but no one was hurt."

"And this friend of yours who was hurt?"

"He'll be just fine."

"I know I am quite cold towards you," he said slowly. "But I am merely following my conscience, like you are trying to follow yours, I have no doubt of that."

"And we respect your opinion," Hancock nodded. "It doesn't mean we will stop trying to convince you."

"I don't think I can be convinced though, Mr. Hancock."

"Lucky for them that Pennsylvania has another delegate, then," Franklin answered.

But Dickinson ignored him.

"I am afraid to say that the situation of Boston today was caused first by the acts of rebellion that shook your town, gentlemen."

He had raised his voice, capturing the attention of all the delegates in the room.

Sam shook his head. Even a kind gesture was turned into political issues with this one...

"Mr. Dickinson..." John Adams started.

"And I do not want you to think that I am not compassionate towards your misfortune, Mr. Adams. What happened to you and your family is terrifying. But what you forgot to mention is that you were hiding fugitives in this house."

A whisper shook the room. Sam glowered at Dickinson, while his cousin was merely clenching his jaws.

"Fugitives... that General Gage has been looking for for months now," Dickinson went on. "I am not saying that what happened was fair for your wife and children, but _you_ are the one who put them in this position in the first place, when you decided to hide these people."

Sam made a movement to stand, but his cousin held him down on his chair.

It was not worth it...

"Maybe we should help General Gage arresting these people, perhaps we should send them back to Boston..." Dickinson said slowly, still staring at John Adams.

John tried to stop Sam from standing up again, but this time he couldn't. Sam stared at Dickinson, hatred burning in his dark eyes.

"You keep talking about things you don't know anything about," Sam told him through gritted teeth.

"Are you denying that these people hiding at your cousin's house are fugitives?"

"I am stating that you twist reality to make it fit your argumentation. But twisted reality has never been the truth."

"So they are not wanted..."

"Anyone who has ever helped us at a time is a fugitive. Anyone who has been willing to defend themselves against General Gage is wanted, dead or alive. It doesn't mean they are evil."

The door of the State House opened on Sarah, and she walked into the room, despite the reprobating stares the delegates were throwing at her.

She walked straight to Sam, and handed him a note. She was out of breath, she had clearly been running from Franklin's house to the State House.

They silently exchanged a glance. He could read both sorrow and relief in her deep, infinite blue eyes. And somehow, he already knew what he would find written on the dirty piece of paper.

He unfolded it anyway, and read silently the note, recognizing Revere's handwriting in a second.

His jaws clenched. Sorrow, shock and rage appeared in his dark brown eyes.

He handed the note to his cousin next to him. And John's face crumbled slowly.

"I reckon we should all try to protect peace," Dickinson went on, resuming his speech. "And clearly you are acting as if..."

He stuttered as Sarah slipped her hand into Sam's, soothingly stroking his fingers as Sam clasped her hand in his.

"...You are acting as if there was no other way than violence to obtain justice. But you put yourselves in..."

"There will be no peace," John Adams interrupted him, standing up and passing the note to Hancock. " _We just received news from Boston. Hundreds of our militia men were slaughtered by General Gage and his troops. They were all brave and true patriots._ "

A heavy silence invaded the room.

" _We should observe a moment of silence,_ " a delegate proposed.

But as silence was settling down again, George Washington violently hit the table next to him, startling everyone.

" _No! We have observed enough silence,_ " he exclaimed. " _We need action._ "

" _Mr. Washington..._ " Dickinson tried to interrupt him.

But Washington shook his head, standing up.

" _General Gage is a ruthless, brutal tyrant who will stop at nothing. I will ride to Boston, I will take care of him myself. Are there any objections?_ "

No one moved in the room, but Washington couldn't miss the little smile that formed on Sarah's face.

" _Good day,_ Ladies and _Gentlemen,_ " he said, before striding outside the room

No one moved for a moment. And Sam couldn't take any of this anymore. He couldn't sit there, idle, when his friends were fighting. He should be the one leading them. He was the one who had dragged them into the mess in the first place after all.

He freed his hand from Sarah's and strode out of the room, oblivious of the stared that followed him.

* * *

He had barely taken what he would need for the trip to Boston. A loaf of bread, a piece of cheese, some water. He had not even taken any clothes. No time for that. He was afraid Sarah would come back to Franklin's house before he was gone.

And then he knew he would never have the strength to leave.

He had promised her the previous night that he would always stay by her side from now on, that they would be together in Philadelphia. But he couldn't stay here safely when his friends were dying for a cause he had been the very first to defend.

It was his fault if these men were dead. And he had to go and join the survivors to die by their sides.

It was the only way to be useful. Nothing was happening in Philadelphia. They had tried, but nothing had happened, and he didn't think that anything _would_ happen. Washington wanted to go to Boston. Surely, they would stand a chance against Gage with his help. They would finally free the City, and he had to be there to see it, to fight for it, to die for it.

He knew Sarah would hate him for this. He was breaking his word. He was abandoning her, leaving her alone again.

He hadn't known what to tell her when he had been facing this piece of paper, the quill shaking in his hand and dropping little droplets of dark ink on the desk. _Sorry_ was all he had written in the end. He knew she would understand everything with this simple word, in a better way than if he had tried to explain everything himself. He was sorry for everything after all, and _everything_ was a difficult thing to explain in a farewell letter.

He finished to attach his bag on the saddle, the calm horse eating a piece of apple Sam had given him. Sam like this horse. It was calm, and fast. He was fond of the animal...

Suddenly, the sound of hurrying footsteps shook the stable, and Hancock rushed in, breathless.

He looked at Sam with wide eyes, who merely kept on attaching his bag without a glance at the newcomer.

" _What are you doing?_ " Hancock breathed.

" _I'm going somewhere that I can be useful,_ " Sam answered.

He picked up his pistols.

" _You could be useful here,_ " Hancock replied.

" _Nothing is happening here. We've been at this for weeks._.."

" _No, your cousin, Mr. Franklin, me..._ we _have been at it. You have been no help at all. Can you deny it? Have you done anything to convince these men?"_

Sam turned an angry gaze towards the merchant.

" _These_ men..." he said, his voice shaking with bitterness." _These men are all terrified. They're all just caring for themselves, they all_ want _something!_ "

" _Yes, they do, but you do not_ ," Hancock answered, taking a step towards Sam, his passionate tone making his voice raise and tremble. " _I didn't understand at first, but now I do. All you want is to things to be fair, for everyone. If_ you _leave, everyone else will leave. You have to stay and convince them!_ "

He stared intensely at Sam, and there was determination in his glance.

" _You convinced me!_ "

The two men merely stared at each other for a moment, but Sam finally broke eye contact, and went back at attaching his bag again.

" _A man with everything to lose,_ " Hancock went on. " _Look at me!_ "

Sam slowly turned towards Hancock again.

" _I'm broke,_ " he said, putting his hands in his pockets, and taking out a glimmering coin from his left pocket. " _This... This is all I have left._ "

He threw the coin at Sam, and the latter turned the piece of metal between his fingers.

It was the coin he had given Hancock ages ago. It was the key to enter their circle when they had been smuggling alcohol throughout Boston. It was with one of these coins that everything had begun somehow...

Sam clenched his jaws, and turned towards the horse again.

" _You're the only one with no agenda,_ " Hancock went on. " _You're the only one who can make these men hear the truth!_ "

But Sam climbed on his horse, and guided the animal towards the door of the stable.

" _Good luck,_ " he told Hancock.

And before the merchant could add anything, Sam had left the room.

He was heading for Boston.

* * *

The movement of her horse as it galloped throughout the woods made her side painful, but not for a second did she think about stopping. The second she had read Sam's note she had known what he had in mind. And she couldn't let him go to Boston. He needed to convince the delegates. And... she couldn't let him take the risk of being killed. Not now that they were finally together, after all this time she had spent hoping, longing, fantasizing...

She knew she wouldn't be able to live without him anymore.

She had been riding for a while now, and she was scared not to be fast enough. She was scared to be too late...

But suddenly he appeared, his brown, worn-out coat was merging with the tree trunks and the fallen leaves. He was sitting on his horse, completely still, his back to her, as if he had suddenly stopped in his ride. She slowed down, and advanced slowly towards him.

"You shouldn't be riding," he suddenly said. "I don't reckon Joseph would agree."

"What are you doing, Sam?" she asked.

He winced at the sound of all the sadness in her voice. She sounded betrayed somehow.

"I have to go," he answered.

She finally arrived at his level, and she dismounted.

"Sam... you can't go there," she said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Even if he wasn't looking at her, he knew the way she was looking at him. He knew the pain in her eyes. And he knew she was weakening his will...

"Sarah... I can't stay here. I'm of no use here, it's pointless..."

"It's not pointless, Sam. We need to convince these men."

He clenched his jaws.

"It's not who I am. I'm not a politician."

"That's precisely why you have to stay, Sam."

She rested her hand on his knee, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Can you come down?" she asked.

He heaved a sigh.

"No, Sarah. I must go. I should be helping there, at Boston. I should be fighting. I should... I should have been at Bunker Hill. It should have been me leading our men there..."

"Sam, you know you're not responsible for anything that has happened there."

"I should have been there."

"No, no you were not meant to be there, Sam."

He looked down at her for a moment, before clenching his jaws and looking before him again.

"Sam... please come down," she asked again.

He winced.

"If I come down, I won't go," he said, shaking his head.

"I know."

He heaved a sigh.

"I need to go, Sarah..."

"Sam, please. Please don't go."

She could now see the glimmer of tears at the corner of his eyes.

"I should have died with all of them..." he breathed.

"No. No Sam, you're wrong, you were not supposed to die there."

"Says who?"

"Says a woman who comes from the future."

He looked down at her again.

"I know you feel guilty, because you always feel guilty for everything," Sarah went on. "But you were not supposed to die there. And you are not supposed to go back to Boston. You're supposed to stay here."

He kept his eyes fixed on her, his dark chocolate eyes that made her feel butterflies in her stomach everytime she lost her soul into them.

" _I_ want you to stay here," Sarah went on, her voice barely audible above the sound of the wind. "You said you would."

He shook slowly his head, before heaving a sigh, and when he tore his eyes away from hers she thought he would leave. But eventually, he dismounted, and looked sheepishly at her.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, and she could hear that he was fighting against his tears. "I... I didn't mean to abandon you. Forgive me..."

He stopped talking as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on him tightly.

"I know, I know why you wanted to do this, Sam," she breathed. "Please just... don't go."

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her.

"I dismounted, it's too late. I won't have the strength to go now."

She smiled, and made a movement to free herself, but he held her closer to him instead, so that she couldn't get away from his arms. She heard him sniffing.

"Sam..."

But he shushed her, and buried his face in her hair.

He couldn't refrain his tears. He couldn't hold back all this anymore. And he didn't want her to see him that way.

"Sam, it's just me," Sarah whispered, guessing how he felt. "Let me look at you."

He shook his head, struggling to keep his breathing regular.

"Sam, please. There's no shame in being upset about all this."

She forced him to look at her, taking his face in her hands. He sniffed again, his cheeks drenched with tears. She gave him a small smile, and brushed away the tears on his cheekbones and beard. He sniffed again.

"Sarah..."

He rested his brow against hers and closed his eyes.

"Don't go. Don't leave me here," she breathed. "I need you."

He nodded.

"I won't go."

His voice was hoarse with tears. When he opened his eyes again, Sarah was crying as well.

He crushed their lips together before she could add anything, and they stayed a long time like this, holding on each other tightly in the middle of the woods.

* * *

John Hancock heaved a sigh, sitting in the comfortable sofa in Ben Franklin's house.

" _So, we don't have a third of the house yet?_ " he asked John Adams and Ben Franklin.

Franklin was sitting in one of his armchairs, when John Adams was pacing nervously.

" _No_ ," Franklin answered, shaking his head.

" _What about South Carolina?_ " John Adams asked, still pacing.

" _I have no idea of what South Carolina is gonna do at this point,_ " Franklin answered.

" _Well, unless it's unanimous is does us no good. General Gage will pick us off Colony by Colony._ "

But the three men were interrupted as Sam walked into the room, quickly followed by Sarah.

Franklin smiled as he noticed that they were holding hands.

" _Alright, but enough of the bullshit,_ " Sam told them. " _Let's try this my way._ "

Hancock and Sam exchanged a smile. Next to them, Franklin was smiling as well, a mischievous glimmer alit in his eyes.

" _Glad you're back._ "


	33. Balance of Forces

**Here's a new chapter. I have Wifi for now, so let's use it while I can.**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews, it means so much to me. I've changed the formulation of my sentence in chapter 30 to use your expression. You made me have a doubt so ;)**

 **I don't know when I'll post the next chapter yet, I hope next week, it'll depend on Wifi.**

 **Hope you like this chapter, and please, tell me what you think about it. Don't forget to leave a review ;)**

* * *

 **Balance of Forces**

There were thousands of them. A human tidal wave advancing throughout the fields.

Michael and Revere watched as all these men were advancing towards their encampment. Men of all age, profession, willing to fight by their side against Gage and his men.

It looked like a dream.

"Is it real?" Revere asked Michael softly, his eyes wide. "Or am I just hallucinating?"

"No, I think it's real."

Revere smiled.

"We might stand a chance after all."

Michael and him exchanged a smile, and Michael recognized the man galloping towards them in a second.

" _Mr. Revere?"_ he asked, dismounting and advancing towards the two men. " _George Washington."_

The two men shook hands.

" _I am very happy to meet you_ ," Paul said, a bright smile on his face.

" _I regret I was unable to arrive sooner_ ," Washington said, shaking hands with Michael.

" _That's a lot of men_ ," Paul said, nodding towards the army walking towards them.

" _I gathered every militia from here to Philadelphia,_ " Washington nodded. " _They are good men. They are prepared to fight for their freedom._ "

" _We could use their help._ "

" _Gage is most likely preparing for a final charge, break through whatever fortifications you might have left._ "

Michael nodded.

"We're preparing ourselves already, but we are short in men and ammunitions."

Washington started to walk towards the tents behind them.

" _So we must be ready_."

"If I may ask, Sir," Michael asked Washington as he and Revere guided the soldier towards their tent. "Do you have news from Philadelphia?"

Washington slightly frowned, but Paul nodded.

"We have friends there, at the Continental Congress," Paul added. "And some more were fleeing there after their house was destroyed. We don't know if they made it there safely."

"You're talking about John Adams's family?"

"Yes, Sir."

"They are safe. His wife and children arrived with four men and two other women. One man was hurt, but his life was not endangered when I left."

"What happened to him?"

"He was shot on the leg. But a doctor was with them, and he wasn't worried about the man's recovery."

Michael heaved a deep sigh.

"Thank God..." he breathed.

"You are friends with the Delegates from Massachusetts?" Washington asked.

"We've been so for years," Paul nodded.

A smile appeared on Washington's face, and he turned towards Revere and Michael before entering their tent.

"I like these Delegates. They seem to be trustworthy. I reckon we're going to get along just well, Gentlemen."

* * *

"Gage is asking for a parley."

Hancock passed the note to Sam.

"He learned for the six thousands men who followed George Washington to Boston. The City is completely surrounded. Their only way to flee is by the sea," Sam nodded. "Gage will try to get his men out of the City."

"It's a wonderful news!" Franklin smiled. "You should be happy, Sam."

"It doesn't mean that it will be over."

"War is won on the long run. One battle at a time. You should appreciate the fact that things could finally get better in Boston."

"I do. I'm just worried about what will come next. Besides, I reckon that it might not be so easy. What if Gage destroys what he cannot keep?"

"You're afraid he would destroy Boston?" Hancock breathed, his eye wide in horror.

"He would be able to do it."

Franklin poured himself and Hancock a glass of red wine. He smiled as Sam was drinking up a gulp of water.

"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do from here," Hancock shook his head. "Except try to convince all the Colonies to support us."

Sam nodded.

"You're right, of course."

"I trust Washington," Franklin said, sipping his wine. "If there is one man who can handle Gage, it's him."

Hancock stood up.

"I have to go eat dinner with a few delegates," he said. "Food might smoothen their minds and help convincing them. Which reminds me, I would need your help with a delegate from Delaware, Steward Reed," he added to Sam. "I'd need you to scare him."

Sam smiled.

"Well, well... now you're asking for my help, John?" Sam teased the merchant.

"I have to keep you busy after all, haven't I?" Hancock replied, smiling as well. "And I have to admit that you did a pretty good job with South Carolina. They are close to finally give in."

"And you said I was bad at politics..."

"You are. But you are extremely good at scaring people."

Sam laughed.

"Why? Is it how I convinced _you_? You were scared I would kill you if you didn't join? I'm not that dangerous, I'm afraid."

Hancock patted Sam's shoulder.

"We both know how you convinced, Sam. And it wasn't by threatening me."

They exchanged an earnest smile, before Hancock would walk out of the room, getting ready to face a bunch of hungry and worried delegates.

* * *

"Checkmate!"

Sam heaved a deep sigh, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I won... again!" Sarah exclaimed, a teasing smile across her face.

"I'm too tired for another game," Sam shook his head.

"Too tired? Or just scared I might win again?"

He laughed.

"Oh, I have no doubt you would win again, Sarah. I'm just being wise right now. No use of getting even more ridiculous than I already am."

"You're never ridiculous, Sam. You're cute, that's all."

He rolled his eyes, before taking a look at the busy street on the other side of the windowpane. The sun was gone already, but many people were still walking in the dark street.

"It's late already," he said slowly. "We should go to sleep."

"It's not that late," Sarah protested.

"It is though."

She reached for his hand across the chess board. They were sitting on Sarah's bed, candles shedding a golden light across the room.

"Stay for a bit longer," she breathed.

She put the chess set away, and cuddled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. In a second, he had wrapped his strong arms around her, resting his cheek on her hair.

"I should go back to my room," he whispered.

She shook her head.

"I don't want you to go."

He dropped a sweet kiss on her head.

"Why do I feel like this is going to become a habit?" he smiled, his lips still resting against her dark and silky hair.

"What is going to become a habit? Me beating you at chess? Or you sneaking into my room after everyone has gone to bed?"

He chuckled, kissing her head again.

"Both, actually," he smiled.

She looked up at him.

"How is it going with Congress?"

He shrugged.

"I'm pretty good at shaking people," he said.

"Hancock told me you were scaring the Delegates?"

"I just tell them the truth, without trying to make it look sweeter than it really is."

She caressed softly his cheek, his short beard tickling her fingertips.

"As long as you don't punch anyone, all is fine."

He smiled, taking her hand in his and dropping a sweet kiss in her palm that sent shivers throughout her entire body. Then, he intertwined her fingers with his, and stared at their entwined hands.

"Washington has arrived to the Encampment," Sam said slowly. "He's going to meet Gage. Which means that Boston should soon be freed."

She shook her head.

"It will take a while, Sam."

She saw his jaws slowly clench.

"What will happen once we've taken back the City. Once... once your colleagues are freed from Gage?"

Sarah shrugged.

"I don't think we could trust them. Although they may not be dangerous."

"It's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

He looked at her again, chocolate stare fixed on a blue one.

"What if you can have _all_ your equipment back? What if you can go..."

"Sam..."

But he shushed her.

"What if you can go back to your time?"

"Sam..."

"What if you leave?"

"Listen to me."

She took his face in her hands.

"I'm not going to leave, Sam. Don't worry, I'm not leaving you."

He brushed his thumb against her cheek.

"It would be wiser to do so, though."

She frowned.

"You would be safe," he breathed. "You would be far away from all this mess."

"I would be far away from you."

"You would be safe."

"Sam, you have to stop thinking that way. Like you always have to sacrifice everything you have. I'm not leaving."

"You could have your life back, you could have the life you deserve, the life you should have had if you hadn't come here."

"It's not the life I want."

"I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, especially if I have a chance to save you."

"Now, stop it."

She sat up, freeing herself from his arms.

"You have to stop feeling guilty for everything. I am the one to decide what I want to do with my life, Sam. And I know perfectly what I want. I've waited for this long enough."

"Sarah..."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Of course I don't want you to leave."

"Then stop trying to persuade me to leave."

"I'm just trying to protect you. I can't lose someone else."

"You would lose me if I left."

"I'd rather have you away and safe than dead here."

"I'm not going to die."

"How can you know that?"

He heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I shouldn't have mentioned that," he mumbled.

He made a movement to stand, but she stopped him, resting both her hands on his chest.

"No, it's a good thing that you brought this up, because we need to set this thing straight."

"Sarah..."

"I want to stay here, Sam. All my friends are here. I didn't have any family there, James and Michael were my closest friends. I've been gone for years. There's nothing for me there, Sam."

He stared at her, remaining silent. But she could see his clenched jaw.

" _You_ are here," she went on, her voice softer. "And unless you don't want me, I intend to spend my life with you."

She could see tears shining in his eyes now.

"I won't leave, Sam. I will never leave. I promise."

She looked down at the sheet under them.

"And I thought you wanted to be with me too," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

He suddenly took her face in his hands.

"Of course I want to be with you," he answered, forcing her to look at him. "But I'm worried about you. That's all. But trust me, Sarah... being with you is all that I want. And you must never doubt this. Whatever I may do from now on will always be to protect you and make you happy. Okay?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked, his voice shaking.

She nodded again.

"I have nothing to give you, except my love. No money, no heritage, no house..." he went on.

"I just want your love, that's all I need," she smiled, resting her hand on his chest. "That's all I will ever need."

"Are you certain?"

She smiled, tears shining in her eyes.

"I'm sure, Sam."

"You want to spend your life with _me_? Is that what you want?"

She nodded.

He smiled, before crushing their lips together. As he finally tore their lips apart, both of them breathless, he kept holding her face in his hands, his face still only a few inches away from hers.

"Sarah?" he whispered.

"Yes, Sam?"

"You want me to love you, until the end? Right?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

She smiled, nodding.

"That's exactly what I want to be honest."

He grinned.

"Would you marry me then?"

* * *

Revere had a terrible feeling about the whole thing. Meeting Gage in the middle of the woods was insane. They couldn't know for sure that he would not try something to get rid of Washington. He reckoned that now that they had enough troops, they should try to take back Boston by force. The British were outnumbered, the Colonists had a serious advantage.

But Washington had decided otherwise.

They were the first to arrive. Michael and Revere set a fire, and with George Washington they waited patiently for the British officer to arrive.

"It's a bad idea," Paul spoke his thoughts out loud.

"We should listen to what Gage has to say," Washington replied.

"We'll stay near anyway," Michael said. "If anything feels wrong, we'll be here in no time."

"It's still too risky for my liking," Paul mumbled under his breath.

"It's a calculated risk," Washington answered. "A calculated risk that we ought to take."

The sound of hooves coming from the distance broke the night that had just settled, and the three men gathered around the fire fell silent.

Soon, Gage was dismounting his white horse, and Washington, Revere and Michael were walking towards the General.

Gage dismissed the Red Coat who had been following him, and Revere and Michael disappeared behind the trees as well, leaving the two soldiers alone in the darkness. Gage took off his white gloves.

" _George,_ " Gage said, a polite smile on his face, offering Washington his open hand.

" _Thomas,_ " Washington answered, shaking the Englishman's hand.

" _I see you've finally found yourself an army... if you can call it that, who could promote you General,_ " Gage said as they both walked closer to the fire.

" _They honour me with that title, yes,_ " Washington nodded.

" _It's not the first time you and I have stood by a fire in this God forsaken wild_."

" _There is something oddly comforting about that._ "

They finally sat down around the fire, looking carefully at each other, studying the other's features with close precision, looking for a way to read through the other's mind.

Gage took off his hat.

" _I was already an officer when General Braddock dragged me here along with four thousands of his troops. We were to save a Colonial commander who failed to defend our borders here... I'm sure you remember._ "

Washington clenched his jaw.

" _Fort Necessity._ "

" _That it is,_ " Gage nodded. " _Our position was lost to the French. And yet Braddock appointed this same Colonial commander,_ you _, as his personal aid camp. I have to say my... fellow officers and I were greatly surprised. Nonetheless, I was honoured to lead the advance attack. Braddock and you, his ambitious errand boy were to hold the rear guard... a chaotic mess of ill-drink pig-farmers who put us all into hysteria at the first sounds of battle. You allowed the enemy to flank us and forced us into a devastating retreat. Over one thousand British casualties including General Braddock himself. Whom you had personally sworn to serve and protect._ "

Washington looked cautiously at his adversary for a moment, silent, and Gage held his intense stare.

They were both playing a dangerous game of chess, and they both knew it.

Now was the time to determine the strengths and weaknesses of their enemy.

" _That was a long time ago_ ," Washington replied, his voice barely audible above the sound of the cracking fire, although his tone was firm.

" _I've often wondered, General Washington,_ _what it was like as Braddock laid dying in your arms. What must he have said to you?_ "

" _He said : 'We shall better know how to deal with them next time'._ "

Gage smiled, irony painted all over his face.

" _And here we are,_ " the British officer said.

" _You would do well to remember that I continued fighting alongside the British army with those... pig-farmers. But they learned. Point of fact, you are here now because of them._ "

" _Yes, the irony is not lost,_ " Gage winced.

Washington leaned further towards Gage.

" _Now I expect you will be asking me to allow you and your men to leave Boston,_ " he told Gage.

" _Yes, very good_ " the British General nodded. " _And you will give us free passage._ "

" _Why would I do that?_ "

" _Well, if you don't... I'll burn Boston to the ground._ "

Gage let his words sink in, remaining silent for a few seconds, while the two men stared at each other even more intensely than before.

" _There are great many homes in this City,_ " Gage went on. " _Homes filled with the families of your soldiers._ "

One more intense stare draped with silence.

" _So be it_ ," Washington nodded.

They both stood up, and Gage offered the Colonist his open hand again. But Washington didn't take it this time.

"There is one more thing we need to discuss," Washington told Gage.

"I am all ears," Gage said, lowering his hand slowly. "What is this other matter?"

"The three scientists from the future you are still holding prisoners."

Gage let out a little laugh.

"They are not there against their will. They made a choice. The three others didn't make the same. But you must know it, one was accompanying you here tonight."

Washington nodded.

"I have understood that they would have taken great risks if they had resisted you, though."

"And yet their colleagues did just that," Gage shrugged.

"It doesn't define what you are going to do with them as your troops leave Boston."

"I guess you will want me to leave them behind."

"Indeed."

"I'm afraid I cannot do such thing."

"Then you will not leave Boston."

"Your force would then be the only one with a bit of help coming from the future. That would not be so fair."

"It is just a shift in the balance of forces."

"One that I cannot allow, I'm afraid."

"What if we sent them back where they come from?"

Gage didn't answer.

"We would not have more help than we already have," Washington went on.

"Then all of them must leave. The ones who help you as well."

Washington thought for a moment. He didn't reckon they intended to leave...

"I cannot guarantee that."

"Then I am taking them with me out of Boston."

Washington nodded.

"I'll talk to the scientists fighting on my side," he proposed. "If they go, their colleagues will go as well. If they don't, you can keep them."

"And whatever this decision may be, I will leave Boston safely with my men, and leave the families leaving in this City alone."

Washington nodded, offering Gage his hand.

"I reckon it is rather fair."

Gage nodded, shaking Washington's hand.

"The forces remain in balance."

Gage walked back to his horse, mounting, and he soon disappeared into the night, closely followed by the soldier who had accompanied him. Washington stared at the shadows in which Gage had disappeared, not turning towards the two men who had appeared by his side.

"You heard everything?" he asked them.

"We did," Revere nodded. " _It's a mistake, we'll have the City within a week, why give him free passage now?_ "

" _We lost Bunker Hill because of their numbers, not their passion. Why give them further victory that would harm ours? Boston blackened by fire just like Charlestown was would be a blow to the moral. And we have a long war to fight._ "

He took a flask out of his pocket, and drank a gulp of alcohol, before handing Revere the liquor.

" _We agreed to let them leave,_ " Washington went on. " _But they will not leave unfollowed._ "

Revere took the flask.

" _So we know better how to deal with them next time,_ " he breathed.

Washington nodded, while Revere was drinking a gulp of whiskey.

"We also have to decide what _you_ are going to do," Washington said, turning towards Michael.

The scientist nodded slowly.

"If you agree, I will finish to organize everything here with you, and I'll go to Philadelphia. I need to talk with James and Sarah about this."

"Having your former colleagues on the British side is a great risk. One we cannot afford."

Michael nodded slowly.

"I'll go to Philadelphia and convince them to go back then."

"Do you really think that Sarah will agree?" Revere asked.

Michael shook his head.

"No, I don't reckon she will. But I'm afraid she won't have a choice anyway, will she?"

They remained silent for a while. And as they remained there, standing still in the woods, the fire next to them slowly consumed the logs and turned it into ashes.


	34. Lovers

**Here comes a new chapter!**

 **Nothing comes from the series here.**

 **I'll update again next week.**

 **I'm also on Tumblr now! For short stories and imagines and other things of the kind, if you're interested. Same name than on this site (padfootagain for the blog and my nom de plume).**

 **Hope you like this chapter, it's a merry one. Please, tell me what you think about it :)**

* * *

 **Lovers**

"To the day our dear Samuel was finally clear minded enough to stop losing time."

Franklin raised his glass, and everyone in the room laughed happily. It had been a long time since the atmosphere had been so merry.

The announcement of Sam and Sarah's engagement had created a wave of happiness throughout the little group of friends. They were all celebrating, the living room in Franklin's house now filled with bottles of wine and food.

Since they had entered the room, Sam and Sarah hadn't separated their hands.

She had never seen him grin so much. Worry never seemed away from his dark glance, worry about Boston, worry about his friends, worry about the Red Coats, worry about her safety... But now there was no trace of it in his features.

Sam seemed happier than Sarah had ever seen him before. And she was proud to be the reason for his merry mood.

And Sam was very proud as well to be the reason for the dreamy smile plastered on the woman's face.

"You have to find a place to live together after your marriage," Hancock said.

"I can help with that," Franklin proposed. "I know a few people who could find you a lively place to live in."

Sam winced.

"I... Thank you, but... I'm afraid we don't have the resources to buy a big house..."

"I know, don't worry," Franklin reassured him. "I am well aware of the times we are living in. But I was thinking of a little house, not far from here. It's not big but it's not far from Congress. You can still go and take a look at it, discuss the price if you're interested."

Sam nodded.

"Thank you."

"And now, let's eat!" Hancock proposed. "I don't know for the rest of you, but I'm starving."

They all gathered around the table, but Sam remained behind, and he gently pulled Sarah closer to him.

"Let's elope," he whispered in ear, his breath tickling her neck.

She grinned, nodding her head, and he guided her to the garden behind the house.

The air was warm but a shy breeze made the heat pleasant. The summer sun was shining bright, and only a few lazy clouds drifted across the flawless sky. They sat on the little wooded bench, under the tall oak that shed its shadows across the green grass.

Sarah rested her head on Sam's shoulder, breathing in the scent of roses that spread across the garden, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze in her hair and Sam's fingers brushing the back of her hand. She didn't even notice the bright smile forming on her lips, that turned into a grin when Sam dropped a sweet kiss on her brow.

"Would you like us to go see this house Franklin was talking about?" Sam asked.

She nodded, looking up at him with an excited glint shining in her eyes.

"We should go take a look then," Sam smiled at the sight of happiness on her face.

She cuddled closer to him, throwing her feet on the bench behind her, and Sam wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her close to him.

"When are we going to get married?" she asked.

Sam shrugged.

"We should do it this Autumn," he said.

"We need to send words to Michael and Paul. They must come to the wedding.

Sam nodded.

"I'll send someone tomorrow for Boston."

She looked at the bees flying around the delicate white roses, stroking softly Sam's arm, and the feeling of her fingers running lightly up and down his arm made his heart stumble in his chest.

He closed his eyes.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Could you do something for me?"

He looked down at her again.

"Anything," he answered, brushing away from her face a lock of her dark hair. "And you know it."

"I'd like to be the one to tell Michael about us. Face to face. Don't tell him and Paul about our engagement yet."

He nodded slowly. There was a question he had been asking himself for a long while, a question that kept on burning his tongue.

"Sarah... Why is he so..."

"Overprotective?" she proposed.

"I would have said annoying but I guess it fits him quite well too."

She laughed.

"We're like brothers and sisters, James, Michael and me. We always have been. And he doesn't think that it's a good idea to... get involved with someone from here."

Sam nodded again.

"I'll let you tell him. But he already knows for us."

She frowned.

"He saw us at John's house," Sam went on. "The night we fell asleep on the bench, outside my cousin's house."

A smile appeared on her face at the memory of that night.

"The night you told me you loved me," she whispered.

"The night I finally confessed what I should have told you years ago."

She smiled again, brushing her nose against the soft skin of his neck, and Sam took a short intake of breath.

"You also have to choose a dress," he said.

"And you a suit."

"I'm sure Hancock will be pleased to help me on that one."

"Do you know who you're going to choose for best man?"

"Joseph, probably. Or Paul. And the bridesmaid?"

"James and Michael."

He smiled.

"You know you're not supposed to choose two men?"

"You know I can do whatever I want for my wedding ?"

They laughed.

"Of course you can," he nodded.

"You should choose two best men as well. You know, to keep balance."

"Don't you think that at least one of us should respect traditions?"

"Since when do you care about traditions?"

He shrugged.

"I just want to make things the right way."

She tenderly stroked his cheek, his short beard tickling her fingertips.

"As long as we do what makes us happy, we'll be doing things the right way."

He smiled again. The sound of laughter suddenly echoed throughout the garden, coming from the house. Sam turned towards the window, and he distinguished Warren's merry face as he drank a gulp of wine.

"We should go back," he said softly.

She brushed her nose against his neck again, and shivers ran up his spine.

"Give me a kiss first," she smiled.

He chuckled, and before he could comply, she had dropped a warm kiss on his neck.

A low groan escaped him, and she smiled against his skin.

She ran a hand through his dark hair, and he closed his eyes.

He let her kiss his neck again, and heaved a deep sigh.

"Sarah... we should go back," he breathed.

She took his face in her hands, shaking her head, her lips just a few inches from his.

"Let's stay here alone for a bit longer."

He smiled, slowly closing the gap between their lips.

"You're having a terrible influence on my social life, you know that?" he teased her.

"We both know that you're more likely to have a bad influence on me than I do on you."

"I'm not so sure."

They exchanged a smile, before Sam would crush their lips together.

And when they walked back into the house, the meal was almost over.

* * *

The house was little and simple. Two rooms downstairs, one that could be used as a kitchen, the other as the living room. Upstairs, there were two bedrooms. It was little, but the house seemed welcoming anyway. It was very close to the Philadelphia State House, and close to Franklin's house as well. Sam was hesitant at first, afraid that it would be too little, not good enough for Sarah to live there. But then the grin on her face was enough to finish to convince him.

Soon, he had signed all the papers and bought the house.

Franklin and John Adams helped to buy furniture, using the excuse of wedding gifts when Sam protested. He let Sarah decide everything about the house. He wanted her to feel at home and living in a place she would have chosen was enough for him.

And after only a week Abigail, Margaret, Mary and Sarah had cleaned up the entire house and completed the decoration. There was now a bed with clean and new sheets, bedside tables with flowers on each of them and a wardrobe. There was a large and welcoming wooden table, chairs, even a sofa before the hearth, and everything that would be needed to cook good meals. There were flowers in every room. There was the scent of warm fire in the chimney all around the house. There was life and generosity oozing from every wall. There was happiness hidden in every corner.

Finally everything was ready, and Sarah couldn't wait to show Sam their house now that it was warm and welcoming, instead of dusty and empty.

"You must close your eyes," she ordered as they arrived before the house.

He laughed, before covering his eyes with his large hand. She took his free hand, and guided him inside, opening the front door.

He breathed in the scent of wildflowers and cracking fire, and a smile crept up his lips.

"All right, you can open your eyes now," she said.

He obeyed, lifting his eyelids, and he remained frozen on the spot for a while.

Sarah started to think that he didn't like at all the home they were about to share.

"You don't like it?" she asked shyly. "We can add and change things if you'd like. It was just what I wanted to do with this place. I wanted it to feel welcoming and warm and I think it does so, but if you don't..."

She was shushed by a pair of lips suddenly being pressed against her own.

"Sarah," Sam finally whispered, slightly breathless after their intense kiss, "it's beautiful."

She grinned.

"You like it then?"

He nodded, wrapping both his arms around her, and she laughed as she buried her face in his white shirt.

"Would you like to change something?"

He shook his head, dropping a sweet kiss on her hair.

"It's perfect already."

He nodded towards the back of the room.

"We might want to add a pair of rifles there, but besides that, it's fine by me."

They laughed.

"Why am I not surprised?" she laughed.

She guided him to the little kitchen, and showed him the little bedroom upstairs.

"We could use it if we have guests, for now," she said, nodding towards the single bed set in the middle of the room.

"For now?" Sam asked.

She shrugged.

"I don't know. Don't you think we could have someone else in this bedroom later on?"

She gave him a mischievous smile, but Sam was not smiling. His expression was worried again, and he looked down at the ground.

"You want children..." he breathed.

She tilted her head on the side.

"Don't you?"

He shrugged.

"I... haven't thought about that, if I'm to be honest."

"Well... I thought we would have some," she breathed.

He intensely stared at her. She seemed disappointed.

He heaved a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm just..." Sam struggled to let out. "I'm just afraid of having children."

"Afraid?"

"The last time I lost everything. I don't want this to happen this time. Not with you."

She gave him a sad smile. Of course, now everything made sense. He was afraid she would die like his wife had died when she had carried their child.

What could she argue against _that_?

"But I'm not her, Sam," she breathed.

"I know."

"And perhaps everything will be just fine this time."

"And maybe it won't."

She took his face in her hands.

"If you forget about your past, if you don't think about that risk... Would you like us to have children one day?"

"Of course. But what if..."

But she shushed him.

"We don't live in a world of 'what if's, you know?"

"We live in a world that often destroys what is good."

"But there is always hope."

He heaved a sigh again, and she tenderly stroked his cheek, her soft skin soothing him.

"Don't see the worst in everything," she said, and there was wisdom in her voice. "There is brightness even in the darkest of nights. It's not because things turn ill once that they will always do so."

He pulled her in his arms, and held her tightly against him for while.

It was hard for him to let go of his former life. It was hard not to think of all the sorrow that had been once shed upon him. It was hard to think he had a second chance to have the life he had always longed for deep down inside of him. It was hard to take the risk to lose everything again.

But the thought of a child laughing, running barefoot through the house, the thought of a child having her eyes and his hair, the thought of holding the baby he would have had with the woman he loved with all his heart was overpowering.

And suddenly, all his fears were gone, only replaced by excitement at the thought of building a family with this woman he held in his arms.

Slowly, he nodded, his cheek brushing against her silky hair.

"But then, let's be clear on one thing. Our son will never be called after me."

She looked up at him, and at the sight of happiness back in his dark eyes, and the disappearance of this worried wrinkle on his brow, she grinned.

"I reckon one Samuel is enough in a house," he went on.

"That's a deal," she nodded. "And if we have a daughter, we won't call her Sarah either."

"Deal."

She went on her tiptoes, so that she could crush their lips together. And as their kiss deepened, a smile formed on Sam's face.

He was lucky again. And it was good to have luck back in his life. He just hoped it would remain that way for as long as she was by his side.

When they finally broke away, out of breath, a grin was stuck on both their faces.

She guided him towards the second bedroom.

"And here is ours," she said softly.

Sam stared at the double bed before him, his eyes drifting slowly to the bedside tables, and the wardrobe, drinking in the feeling of love that oozed from the place. He wrapped both his arms around her waist, pressing her back against his chest.

"Do you like it?" she asked, resting her arms upon his.

He nodded, kissing her hair again.

"I can't wait to live here with you," he mumbled against her skin.

She heaved a content sigh as his lips travelled down her head to find the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Do we really have to wait to be married to live here together?" she moaned, pouting.

"I'm afraid it would not be seen as something respectable to do if we moved here together while being only engaged, and not married," he answered, his lips moving now to her cheek, and she rested her head against his chest, giving him better access to her skin.

"As if I cared for a second about that..." she replied, her voice now made only a whisper by her rushing heart and all the shivers that travelled her body because of Sam's lips upon her skin.

His hands caressed her waist, travelling upon her white shirt, just above the band of her brown trousers.

She thought she was going to faint...

"In my world it would actually be normal, you know?" she breathed, closing her eyes. "To live together before getting married."

He kissed her closed eyelids, and she took a sharp intake of breath at the tickling feeling of his smooth lips against her sensitive skin.

"It's not something normal _here_ though..." he breathed, and the feeling of his breath against her lips made her very soul shake. "And we should do things the normal way, don't you think?"

She suddenly pushed him away from her, turning to face him. And there was a wild glint alit in her eyes he had never seen before.

"Screw the normal ways," she replied.

And Sam had only enough time to raise an eyebrow before her lips were on his, her hands flying up to his dark hair and pulling him down to her. In a matter of seconds, their kiss had deepened, and it was all tongues and teeth and crushing lips...

And in this kiss there was something different than in any kiss they had shared before. There was something more than love and tenderness.

There was something wild and untamable as well.

And Sam knew perfectly what it was and had to stop this before it would become completely out of control.

"Sarah... Sarah we can't do this," he whispered, tearing his lips away from hers.

She moaned.

"Why not?" she asked, pouting.

"Because we shouldn't."

"Who says so?"

"Sarah, you deserve things to happen the right way..."

She heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Sam..."

"I want to do things..."

"The right way, I know. I heard that one before."

Her tone was frustrated, and angry, and bitter.

And he hated it.

"Here it is not showing you respect and love to... become intimate before marriage," he said, trying to control the anger in his voice.

Her gaze softened, and she heaved a deep sigh again.

"I know you're trying to act the right way with me..."

"And yet you're not making it easy for me."

"...But it's not what I want," she went on, ignoring his remark.

He stared intensely at her.

"I don't care about what others may think. I love you. I've waited for this and fought against this for years, and I can't take it anymore."

She let her words sink in for a moment, and Sam merely remained speechless.

"I'm already yours anyway, what will a ring change? I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being patient. I'm tired of being cautious and wise. I'm tired of this game between us. Because we both know this has been here between us for years, and I'm tired of holding back. I want what I've wanted for years. And I don't care what people might think of it. I know that loving you will never be a mistake."

She could see his will weakening every second. She caught him glimpsing down at her lips several times.

"I'm yours. Aren't you mine?" she asked in a whisper.

"Of course I am," he answered, his tone matching hers.

"Then let me be completely yours. And be completely mine," she breathed, as his lips were slowly diving towards hers.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I'm sure."

She tilted her head to the side, blue stare never leaving his dark eyes.

"Don't you want me?" she whispered.

He ran a trembling hand through her hair, his breath ragged already.

"Are you serious?" he asked. "I've been dreaming about this for years."

And before she could reply, he had crushed their lips together, and was pushing her against the doorframe, his tongue slipping between her parted lips.

Her hands moved down from his hair to his chest, and she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, while he pulled her white shirt out of her trousers.

His hands slipped under the fabric of her shirt, and they both moaned as his calloused hands collided with the soft skin of her stomach.

And Sam was not sure he would be able to take any more of all these feelings she made him feel as he caressed this smooth skin he had never touched before.

And yet he wanted more, more, always more...

He let his hands roam over her waist and stomach, until he could feel her tremble under his touch, as his rough skin brushed the scar of her wound.

He immediately pulled away, letting his arms fall back down to his sides.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

But she was giggling.

"It tickles," she answered, shaking her head.

She unbuttoned the last button of Sam's shirt, and pulled it softly down his arms, staring at his dark eyes all along. His eyes had never been darker...

His shirt fell with a thud on the ground.

She couldn't help but stare at his muscular chest, running her fingers up from his stomach to his neck. She pulled him down to her again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

She let him carry her as he passionately kissed her again.

And before she could register anything, he had put her down on the bed, and was lying upon her.

He moved his lips to her neck, dropping hot, open-mouthed kisses and nipping at the skin. He slipped his hands under her shirt, but didn't touch the skin that laid only millimeters under his fingertips, and the knowledge of his hands so close to her skin but still out of reach made her whimper.

She ran her hands up and down his back, whispering in his ear.

"I love you, Samuel Adams."

She felt him smiling against her neck, and his hands finally rested on her waist.

"I love you too, Sarah Hugo. And I always will."

* * *

They were staring at each other. Blue eyes fixed on black ones. They were grinning, holding on each other tight. He was stroking her cheek with his thumb, his fingertips lost in her hair. She was brushing her fingertips against his chin.

They felt like they were in a dream. Like the warmth of skin against their own was too wonderful to be true, like these eyes they were staring at were too deep to be real, like this beating they felt against their chest was too loud to be their own.

And yet the warm little ray of sunshine that bathed their bare skin, and the feeling of the sheets against them, and the sound of the other's breath through the late afternoon air... All of this _was_ real.

 _Everything_ was real.

They hadn't spoken for a long while, they were merely staring at each other, holding each other, cuddling. There was no need for words between them then. Their grins were enough to carry all the love they felt in their hearts to the other.

His thumb moved up from her cheek to her eyelids, and she closed her eyes, letting him caress the sensitive skin. He seized the occasion to kiss her, and she let out a giggle as she felt his lips on hers.

"Sam..." she kept giggling after his mouth had left hers.

"What?" he asked, his grin widening at the sound of her laugh.

"It tickles," she laughed, pulling her face away from his hand, and rubbing her eye.

"I'm sorry," he laughed.

She had never heard him laugh so loud. She had never seen him so happy at all. and she guessed it was the same for her.

"It's alright," she reassured him.

"I didn't know you were ticklish," he laughed, bringing her face close to his again.

"I am," she chuckled. "A lot."

"So if I do... that..."

He tickled her down her arms, and she struggled to free herself from his embrace, but he was way too strong for her.

"Stop... stop..." she hiccupped.

"What did you say?"

He moved to tickle her side, and soon she was laughing so hard she cried.

"Sam! Stop!"

She was struggling to breathe, trying to free herself but he was lying upon her and pining her to the mattress and she was helpless.

He waited for a bit longer before finally stopping to torture her. He sat up, letting her breathe freely again.

"You're alright?" he asked, laughing and holding his painful stomach.

She nodded, and grabbed his pillow, throwing it at his face.

And a second later the situation had turned into a war and there were feathers flying everywhere.

And the battle only stopped when Sarah lost her balance, and pulled Sam with her as she fell down the bed and onto the ground.

And the house was still echoing with the sound of their happy laughs.

"You're okay?" Sam asked her, finally calming down.

She nodded, resting her head on his chest.

They remained still for a while, lying on the ground in the middle of the messy sheets and the soft feathers, catching their breaths.

Finally, Sarah looked at the window, and she stared at the lazy clouds drifting away through the blue sky.

"We were supposed to go to Franklin's house tonight," she said after a long while.

He moaned.

"No, let's stay here," he mumbled against her hair, tightening his hold on her.

"We need to go there, I need to talk with James about the wedding."

He groaned.

"I'd rather stay here," he argued.

"I'd rather stay here as well, but we need to go."

He smiled, running his fingers up and down her spine, and he felt her tremble under his touch.

"We're not even married yet, and we already want to stay in the house all day long," he breathed.

She smiled.

"Let's get up!" she said, sitting up and covering herself with the sheet.

He looked in awe at her naked back, and the way her dark curls brushed her shoulder blades, and...

"Sam? You're coming?"

He nodded, picking up his shirt near the bed.

And he was still happy, and merry, and somehow in shock about what had happened that day between him and Sarah, but as he put on his boots he had some weird feeling in his stomach, as if...

As if something an evil news was coming his way...

9


	35. Promises and Sacrifices

**Okay, I know you're going to hate me for this chapter. Like HATE me, I'm not kidding. I know. I'm sorry. But I have to, because if things were easy, it wouldn't be worth the fight. And I reckon that the brightest dawns always come after the darkest nights so...**

 **Thank you soooooooooooo much for your reviews Wane Soo-Jin and CoffeeJunkie33! It means so much to know that you like this story! Thank you so much.**

 **And I agree with you on the many things that they would miss from the future Wane Soo-Jin, especially for Sarah as a woman. But when you really love someone, I reckon this is what motivates your most important choices. And don't forget that they've been there for years, they have adaptated to this period somehow.**

 **We are also approaching the end of this story. There will be only one or two chapters more after this one. It's sad really, don't you think?**

 **Nothing comes from the series here.**

 **I hope you like this chapter, please, tell me what you thought about it :)**

* * *

 **Promises and Sacrifices**

"Michael!"

The scientist had not yet set a single foot in Franklin's living room that Sarah had already thrown herself at him, wrapping her arms around her best friend, eliciting laughs from everyone in the room.

"It's been so long!" she cried, holding on him even more tightly.

He patted her shoulder, nodding, an amused smile on his face.

"Yes, and I'm more than happy to see you too, Sarah. But you're strangling me."

He and Paul were warmly greeted by all their friends, and they gathered around the fireplace, so that the two travelers could get warmer. The end of September had brought a cold wind that froze people even through their clothes.

Once all were gathered, Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but Michael was faster than her.

Sam shrugged in response to her disappointed face, and he took her hand in his, leaning against the mantelpiece.

"I'm afraid we didn't come here just to see you all, guys," Michael said, looking down at his shoes. "Washington spoke with Gage."

They all exchanged a glance.

"And? What did he say?" Sam asked slowly.

"He said that he would burn Boston to the ground if we didn't give him and his men free passage to leave Boston."

"So he's going to walk away freely, right?" Hancock asked.

"I don't reckon we had much choice here," Michael nodded.

"So... does that mean that the City will be free after they're gone?" Abigail asked.

Paul nodded with a smile.

"Yes. But it does not mean that it will be the end of all this."

"More like the beginning," Sam nodded, a dark expression on his face.

Michael and Paul exchanged a glance, before Michael would speak again. His voice slow and hesitant.

"There is something else that Gage wants."

"What could that be?" Franklin encouraged Michael to continue.

The scientist struggled to swallow back the lump that had started to creep up his throat.

"He will not free Yuri and the others unless we all go back to the future."

A heavy silence fell upon the room, and all but Michael turned towards Sam and Sarah.

"What?" James breathed.

"He will keep them as hostage and will keep using them to get information and weapons unless we all go back to the future."

Mary grabbed James's hand, horror painted all over her face.

"But you can't leave..." she breathed.

"We can surely take you with us, Mary," Michael reassured her.

"We're not leaving, Michael," Sarah stated, her voice shaking, her jaw clenched. "We're. Not. Leaving."

"We can't take that risk, Sarah," Michael replied. "You weren't at Bunker Hill. They improved the British canons. They fired from further than we thought they would, and our explosives were useless."

She remained frozen on the spot, merely staring at him.

"We can't take that risk. We need to go," Michael repeated.

"What makes you think that Yuri will not tell Gage everything he knows before being freed?" Sarah shot back.

"Oh... I guess he will. And we'll do just the same. But on a scientific point of view, the two sides will not be helped by anyone, not more than we have already done till now."

"We're not leaving, Michael."

"We have to though," her friend breathed.

She shook her head.

"Well, I'm not leaving."

"We all need to go, that's the deal."

"Find something else."

"There's nothing to find, Sarah. Can't you see?" Michael replied, standing up. "It's all of us or nothing."

She took a step closer to him, and they intensely stared at each other. And when she spoke again, her tone was enough to let him know that she would not change her mind.

"It's nothing then."

"Sarah... I know it's hard to go but..."

"Sam and I are engaged."

Michael intensely stared at her, his expression unreadable, his eyes blank. Behind him, Paul heaved a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"We're not leaving, Michael," Sarah stated one more time.

"What have you done?" Michael breathed, clearly shocked. "What happened in your head?! You can't marry Sam Adams!"

"Michael..." Sam tried to calm him down, his voice soft and soothing.

But Michael threw him a glare full of warning, before focusing on Sarah again.

"That would change the past way too much," Michael went on.

"We both know we've changed the past already, in a manner we cannot repair. And me marrying Sam is just a drop in the ocean."

"We both know that's not true, though. He's too important in History for us to mess up with his life."

"We have already messed up with his life, Michael. We've messed with the life of every single person in this room since we set a foot in Boston for the first time."

He looked at Sam for a second, and when his eyes came back to her, there was disgust in his expression.

"I can't believe you let yourself be fooled into his arms so easily."

And before he could see it coming, her hand had violently collided with his cheek, as she slapped him with all her might. She waited for him to look at her again, before speaking.

"I'm not leaving, Michael. And there is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind."

He could see that there were tears in her eyes, but before he could reply anything she had walked out of the room.

Sam and Michael stared at each other for a few seconds, before Sam would start towards the door as well, following Sarah.

But Michael stopped him.

"I'll go," he said.

And as he was turning towards the door, he added words he knew he shouldn't have spoken as they passed his lips. Bt he was too bitter and angry to be wise.

"You did enough damage already."

"Hey!"

Sam roughly grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to turn towards him again.

"I'm not responsible for Gage's demand," Sam replied through gritted teeth.

"You're responsible for manipulating her."

"Manipulating her?"

"What were you thinking about? How could you think that it would end well between the two of you? Yes, you manipulated her. Because before you and her got close, she didn't think there was a version of the story where we stayed here and lived happily ever after. You made her fall for you, and now look!" Michael added angrily. "She's going to have her heart broken, and for what? So that you could put her in your bed?"

Before he could add another word, Sam had seized him by the collar with both hands and pushed him against the wall.

Behind them, Paul, Joseph and Kelly took a step towards the two men, ready to separate them.

"You don't know anything about me and Sarah," Sam snapped through gritted teeth. "So don't start acting like you do."

"It's your fault, Sam..."

"You have no idea what happened between us. You have no idea how we got where we are now. And she's right, I'm not letting her leave."

"You must though. It's what is best. For History, and for herself as well."

"She made a choice."

"A shitty one."

"I don't agree."

"And what will happen the day she's pregnant and she has nowhere to go to?"

Sam remained frozen on the spot.

"What will happen when she will need medical assistance and all you will be able to do is give her a fucking glass of water?"

He could feel that Sam's hold was slowly loosening.

"She's been sick here once, you know?" Michael went on. "Oh, no, of course you don't. You weren't talking to us by then. But Franklin and James can testify. And you want to know what happened? She almost died."

There was no anger in his eyes anymore, only fear.

"If she stays because of you, you will be the reason for her death. Because this shitty period of History will kill her in the end as surely as I'm standing here now."

"Michael," James interrupted his friend, his voice firm. "That's enough."

Slowly, Sam let go of Michael's shirt, and he stopped pressing him against the wall. He seemed terrified.

And before anyone could say another word, he had run out of the house.

He knew where she was, and he headed straight to where she had run to hide. It was easy for him to know where she hoped to find a sanctuary, he wanted to hide there as well.

He opened the door of their house, this house she had taken so much time to decorate so that it would feel like _their_ home.

And it did feel like their home.

He looked for her downstairs, but she wasn't there. So he climbed up the stairs and headed straight to their bedroom. And he wasn't surprised to find her there, still, standing next to their bed as she stared down at the busy street. She was leaning against the windowpane, her brow resting against the cold glass.

Sam slowly walked towards her, and he gently wrapped his arms around her waist, dropping a tender kiss on her shoulder.

She sniffed loudly, and he tightened his hold on her.

"Don't cry," he whispered in her ear. "Don't cry, my love."

"I'm not leaving, Sam," Sarah stated, and her voice was determined despite her tears.

"I know you won't," he answered.

She turned around to face him. Her eyes were red with her cries, and he slowly dried her cheeks with his thumbs.

"I won't leave you," she said.

"I know."

"I'll never leave you. I promised you I wouldn't, and I won't."

"I know."

He dropped a chaste kiss on her brow.

"Stop crying, now," he breathed as he felt her shaking in his arms. "I can't see you cry."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him even closer to her, and she forced herself to calm down. And his soothing caress on her hair definitely helped.

"I'm sure we can beat them even if Yuri stays here," she said.

But he shushed her softly.

"Let's not talk about that anymore, okay?"

She nodded, burying her face in his shirt, and he cradled her head in his strong head.

"I love you, Sam," she whispered. "I love you, and I always will. And whatever may happen, I will always be yours," she added, and her voice sounded like a vow.

Sam clenched his jaw, fighting against his own tears that threatened to escape from his tired eyes.

"I love you too, Sarah," he answered, his tone matching hers. "I love you with all my heart."

But deep down, he knew a truth he had learned a long time ago. The most painful truth he had ever learned in his life.

Love couldn't do miracles...

* * *

Michael was sitting alone in Franklin's garden. The wind was cold and made him shiver but he didn't care. He knew James was mad at him. He knew Sarah was infuriated. He knew he had been unfair with Sam.

But the truth was, he didn't want to go either.

It was true that there were many things from his time that he missed. Medicine, and sweets, and TV, and movies, and books, and in general the comfort that future had brought to men. And very often, he longed for things he had known many years ago, but were out of his reach now.

And yet... yet his heart ached at the idea of leaving his friends behind. These men and women he had grown fond of. He had laughed with them, and cried with them, and fought with them, and killed with them, and with them he kept hoping that tomorrow would bring something better than what they had today.

He had been harsh with Sarah and Sam, but the thing was, he was suffering as well at the idea of leaving this world he had learned to love and to look at as his own.

And when he had gotten angry at Sam, the words he had spoken were also meant to convince himself that they should go. Because doubt was lingering in his heart and was torturing him.

He was lost in thought when Sam walked into the garden, and he started when Sam sit down on the bench next to him.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Sam apologized.

He tightened his coat around himself to get a better protection against the cold wind.

"Where is Sarah?" Michael asked.

"She fell asleep."

"She came back here? In Franklin's house?"

But Sam shook his head.

"She's in the house I bought for us to live in after the wedding."

Michael looked down at the ground.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, his eyes still glued to the earth under his feet. "I shouldn't have talked to you and Sarah the way I did."

"You don't know anything about us, Michael."

"I know her well, though."

"So do I."

They remained silent for a moment, Sam looking at the dying roses in the back of the garden, and Michael still staring at his dirty boots.

"I didn't mean what I said," Michael confessed.

"You did though," Sam replied. "Most of it, at least."

"It's not against you, Sam."

"You can think whatever you want of me. But not that I forced Sarah into this. I didn't do anything for any of this to happen. I never misbehaved towards her. I kept my distance for years. And if we are together today, it is because she made the first step, not the other way around."

"You didn't complain though," Michael couldn't help but reply, his tone quite bitter, looking at Sam now.

"What do you think? I love her. How could I?"

He looked down at the ground, his jaw clenched.

"After Lexington, I couldn't," he added in a whisper.

Michael intensely stared at him. And when he spoke again, his voice was slow and his choice of words cautious.

"It would be hard for me to leave as well, you know? I don't want to. But we must. If we want to protect History, if we want to protect this country - _my_ country. If we want to protect each other."

There was a short silent that settled between the two men.

"Is it true what you said about Sarah? That she fell sick?" Sam asked.

Michael nodded.

"It was just a month before the Boston Tea Party. It lasted for three weeks. We didn't think she would make it."

"She never mentioned this."

"Because she's strong and never asks for help."

A small smiled played on Sam's lips.

"You've got a point."

There was another short silent, before Sam would speak again.

"What was it?"

"The flu. Big one."

"I heard there had been many dead that year, yes."

"Well, she was almost one of them. And this is only sickness. I'm not mentioning this war that is heading towards us."

Sam clenched his jaw even more tightly.

"She doesn't want to go, Michael," he breathed.

But the scientist could hear that Sam was battling against himself, torn apart between his will to protect Sarah at all cost, and his love for her.

And Michael pitied him at this moment. It was the first time Michael had ever pitied him. But there was so much sorrow and fear in his eyes, although the expression on his face was almost blank.

"I know," Michael answered. "But it's what is best for her."

"She won't accept to go."

"If you ask her to, then she will."

"I can't do that," Sam shook his head, his voice shaking. "I can't."

"Of course you can. You're a strong man, Sam."

"I won't overcome it this time," Sam breathed.

And his mask had fallen, and his expression was crumbling.

"Michael, I can't do this. I can't make her suffer like that."

"If you ask her to leave, she will."

"No, she won't. She won't leave if I merely ask her to go, we... We've already had a conversation of the kind her and I. And she won't leave if I just _ask_ her to."

"What do you propose then? What would it take?"

Sam remained silent for a while, so Michael went on.

"You know that if you really love her, if you want to save her, you _must_ let her go. It's the only way, Sam. You must convince her to leave."

Sam stared at Michael, his dark eyes piercing the scientist to his very soul.

"What would it take to convince her?" Michael asked again.

Sam clenched his fists.

"I would have to break her heart."

* * *

The terrible day was closing upon them. After their conversation in the garden, Sam and Michael had barely talked to each other, and none of them had ever mentioned a word of the conversation they had led that day. The months had passed. Sam had kept on delaying the wedding but hadn't spoken to Sarah.

They were living under the same roof now. He had been insistent about it, even if he was the one who didn't want them to live together before they were married in the first place.

The truth was, he had taken his decision that day, on this bench, next to Michael.

And even if it was just a taste, he wanted to know what it was like to live with Sarah. He wanted her to be the first thing he would see in the morning when he woke up, and the last sight his eyes would capture before he would close his eyelids and fall asleep. He wanted to walk into the house and find her cooking diner, or reading before the fireplace. He wanted to remain in bed all day long with her on Sundays. He wanted to hear her laugh as he tickled her under the sheets. He wanted to feel her bare skin under his fingertips and feel her shudder under his touch.

He wanted a taste of the life he was condemning himself never to live.

And now that the day that this conversation that would set his destiny had come, he didn't regret it.

He couldn't have her for a lifetime, but she had been his for a few months. And he reckoned that he could live on the memories they had built during this period until it was time for him to leave this world.

He hadn't asked any of the scientists about his death, but he hoped that this day would not be too long to come.

It was the end of February, and the snow had invaded the street of Philadelphia, as well as a freezing wind. Sam was shivering with the cold, his teeth chattering. He buried his hands in his pockets to protect them from the snow that was falling harder and harder every second.

Finally, he arrived in the right street. But despite the cold, he slowed down his pace down the street, reluctant at reaching his home.

It was his last moments of happiness and he knew it.

When he reached the door, he remained there, standing still on the threshold, staring at the door, for a long moment.

He heard something falling inside the house, probably a pan. Sarah was cooking, clearly.

Or well, trying to, because she was awful at cooking. Unless he came back too late from the Congress, it was always him who cooked.

The thought made him smile.

He took a deep breath, before resting his hand on the doorknob, and slowly, as if he was making something very painful, he turned the doorknob and opened the door.

He could smell boiled potatoes and cabbage. She had made a soup, clearly. He took in the sight of their warm home, candles alit everywhere. And then Sarah walked in...

He silently watched her as she carried the large saucepan to their table, humming to herself what sounded like a lullaby.

He finally locked the door, taking off his hat and coat, and Sarah turned towards him, a smile forming on her lips at the sight of him.

"You look frozen," she said.

"That's because I actually _am_ frozen," he answered with a smile.

"I made a soup. And nothing burnt," she said proudly.

He laughed.

"Soon, we'll make a real cook out of you."

She shrugged.

"I prefer when _you_ cook for me."

Sam walked closer to the fire, warming his hands close to the flames.

He felt Sarah walking towards him, and soon, she had wrapped her arms around him.

"How was Congress?" she asked.

"As usual. Boring."

She chuckled, before turning his face towards her, and kissing softly his cold lips. She giggled.

"Your nose is so cold!" she exclaimed. "One more minute outside and you would have turned into an ice cube!"

But when she turned towards the table again, he caught her hand, and pulled her to him again. He ran a hand through her dark hair.

He was supposed to speak to her that night but he couldn't. Not now. Not tonight.

Just one more night by her side, and he would let go. He just needed one more evening of happiness. Just one...

"This soup actually smells good," he smiled.

"I have a good teacher when it comes to cooking."

"I can see that."

"Come on, I'm starving. And it'll warm you up a bit."

She dragged him to the table, and they ate together, chatting and laughing. But she knew that there was something wrong going on with him.

He was reluctant at letting go of her hand to let eat her soup. His eyes were staring at her with a sadness she had not seen in him for a long while. He talked less than usual.

And as he stared at her, and caressed her fingers, and listened to her it felt like...

Like he was trying to memorize her. Memorize their evening. Memorize her words, and her face, and the feeling of her skin.

And she knew that there was something wrong with him.

"Sam, is everything alright?" she asked softly, almost shyly.

"Of course, why?"

"You're looking at me in a strange way."

"I'm merely admiring you."

She rolled her eyes.

"It's true though," he breathed. "You _are_ beautiful."

She smiled.

"Thank you..."

She knew there was something more. But somehow... she was afraid to know what was troubling him. She didn't know why. But she chose not to insist, and stood up to go clean their plates instead of asking him more questions.

But he stopped her, taking her hand in his, and he rose from his seat as well. He stared at these blue eyes he adored, and ran a shaking hand through her hair.

Just one more night...

"We'll clean this tomorrow morning, alright, my love?" he whispered, his hand slipping from her hair to her cheek, and he brushed his thumb against her lips.

Her heart was racing...

"Why? You have something more important to do?" she teased.

He smiled, nodding.

"I do, actually."

He pulled her to him, letting go of her hand, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"I have something much more important to do," he whispered.

"Do you now?"

He nodded, brushing his now warm nose against hers.

"Let me take you upstairs."

She shuddered, her breath ragged already.

She was too much upset by his touch already to speak, and she merely nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He slipped his hands down the length of her body, and set them behind her thighs, before carrying her to their bedroom, kissing her all the while.

"I love you, Sam."

But instead of telling her that he loved her as well, like he always did, he merely crushed their lips together again, pulling her into a desperate kiss that... that almost tasted like farewells.

Just one last night...

* * *

He had not slept that night. How could he? He had merely lied there in their bed, still, watching her as she dreamt. He wondered what happened in her dreams. She seemed so peaceful...

The sun was slowly rising, and he should have had already walked down to the kitchen to drink a cup of tea before heading to the State House.

But he wouldn't go there today.

Michael and Paul were travelling back to Boston that very day, it was his last chance.

He had to do this now.

He waited for her to wake up, her eyelids fluttering, before being lifted to reveal the blue orbs that stole his heart everytime he saw them.

He stroked her cheek, eliciting a content sigh from her.

"Hello," she breathed.

"Hello."

"Aren't you supposed to be at Congress?"

He shook his head.

"Let's get dressed," he said softly. "We need to talk about something."

She frowned.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Let's dress up."

They walked downstairs once they were both ready, and she sat down around their table, staring at him.

"What's wrong, Sam?" she asked again.

He remained standing, looking down at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Sarah..." he breathed.

"Sorry about what?"

"I... I can't marry you," he said.

She intensely stared at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I can't marry you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. But I can't do that."

She stood up, and took his chin between her fingers, his short beard tickling her skin, forcing him to look at her.

"What did you say?" she asked again with a breathy voice.

"I..." he stuttered, struggling to lie while staring at her deep blue eyes, and for a moment, he thought he wouldn't be able to do it. "I... I can't... marry you, Sarah."

"Have you been hit on the head?"

"No, Sarah."

"Because you're talking nonsense now."

"I can't marry you."

She narrowed her eyes, before letting out a bitter sigh.

"That's because of Michael, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"He told you to break up with me so that he would take me back to Boston and convince me to leave, right?"

She was way too clever sometimes...

"Michael didn't ask me anything, Sarah," Sam replied, and this time he wasn't lying, and she saw it.

"What are you doing then?"

"I'm breaking up with you," he breathed.

"I had noticed that, thank you. But why?"

"Because..."

But he couldn't manage to say it.

"Say it," she dared him. "Say it. If you want me to leave, then it's the only way. And that's what you want, right? You want me to leave."

Of course he didn't want her to leave...

"Yes, I want you to leave, Sarah."

"Then say it. Because for now I know you're talking bullshit."

He clenched his jaw, summoning his strengths.

Why was it so hard to lie?

"I don't want to marry you anymore, Sarah," he breathed.

He saw her flinching.

"Why?" she breathed, and her voice was not so confident anymore.

"Because I was wrong," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I was wrong about us. I was wrong about the way I feel."

Her eyes widened.

"You don't mean that..." she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sarah."

"What do you mean? You were wrong about the way you feel... what does that mean?"

He slowly shook his head, fighting with all his might to get the words to pass his lips. He wanted so much to cry...

"I don't love you, Sarah."

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I don't believe you," she breathed, tears slowly escaping her eyes and wetting her cheeks.

She clenched her jaw, anger shining in her wet eyes now.

"Why are you lying?" she asked through gritted teeth, raising her voice. "Why do you lie?"

He didn't answer.

"Why are you lying?!"

She clenched her fists, and hit his chest, spending her rage on his strong muscles, and he let her, not protesting, not even moving at all.

"WHY?"

Finally she stopped punching his chest, and she crumbled, sobbing. He caught her right before she would fall on the ground.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but lying is the only way."

But she was crying so hard that she didn't even hear him.

Suddenly, she freed herself from his warm embrace, striding towards the door and she stormed out of the house.

Leaving a crying Sam alone...

* * *

She had walked into the room like a zombie, her stare blank, her eyes red, her hair disheveled. She had interrupted all who were gathered in Ben Franklin's living room to say goodbye to Michael and Paul who were heading back for Massachusetts just a few hours later. When she spoke, a deadly silence fell onto the room.

Her decision was taken, they were all leaving.

When she had asked Paul and Michael to wait for her and James to be ready to go to Boston with them, no one could understand why she had changed her mind.

No one, except Michael.

When Mary started to look at James with panic in her eyes, her husband reassured her. She could come with them, if that was what she wanted.

"As long as we are together," she said slowly, taking his hands in hers, "then everything will be just fine. Of course I'm leaving with you."

So they all packed up their things.

When she walked to the house Sam had bought for the two of them, she found her bags already packed, waiting for her near the door.

She didn't walk into the house. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to cry again. Instead, she picked up her bags, turned around, and walked away.

And soon they were all ready to go to Boston. At their friends' great despair.

"You shouldn't go," Hancock told them as they were all walking to the stable with the scientists. "You shouldn't leave us. You should stay here. We can deal with your colleagues, we've done it before."

"I agree," James nodded. "We shouldn't go."

"We must," Michael replied sternly.

"I cannot believe that things are meant to happen this way," Franklin muttered.

They walked into the stable, the woman remaining silent. She started to attach her bags on her saddle.

"What about Sam?" Joseph asked.

She froze.

"The doctor is right, what about Sam?" Hancock nodded. "Not a week ago you were planning your wedding, you were on a little cloud..."

"John," she interrupted him, and her voice was so sad and cold that he immediately stopped talking. "I have to go now."

And with that she climbed on her horse and hurried out of the stable.

"Michael, we're doing a mistake," James shook his head, watching the woman riding out of town. "We shouldn't leave."

But when he turned towards his friend, he wasn't there anymore.

Michael had one more thing to do before leaving Philadelphia.

After their conversation in Franklin's garden, Michael didn't think that Sam would take this decision. He didn't think he would sacrifice his life with Sarah to let them go. And to be fully honest, Michael hadn't meant half the things he had spoken that day.

He dismounted as he arrived before the house Sam and Sarah shared, but he didn't knock on the door.

Instead, he walked to the window, and very discreetly, he looked inside the house.

Sam was sitting there, by the fire, his eyes lost into the dancing flames.

Michael winced, closing his eyes.

At Sam's feet lied an empty bottle of wine. And he had already started to drink another, that he held tightly in his hands.

Michael turned around, mounted his horse again, and headed for the main road that would lead him to Boston.

He was starting to doubt himself, he was starting to feel guilty, he was starting to regret all that he had said.

But it was too late to turn around now. It was too late to repair what he had broken.

It was too late, they didn't have a choice anymore. They had to leave.


	36. Independence

**I'm sorry it took me so long to post this but... it's the last chapter and... it made me so sad to have to end this story, it took me a while to summon the courage to do it.**

 **Thank you to all of you who took this Journey with me, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.**

 **Thank you again. Goodbye my friends.**

* * *

 **Independence**

They hadn't seen him the day the scientists had left, but his friends could understand that. They could understand that he needed a bit of time to digest Sarah's decision.

Although, none of them could understand why he had not held her back.

But when he didn't come to Congress the next day, they really started to worry. Perhaps he needed some space and time to get over Sarah's departure. But he could also be rotting in some darkest parts of town to drown his sorrow.

So when he didn't show up that day at the Philadelphia State House, Hancock decided to go look for him. He left Franklin and John Adams handle the Delegates and walked through the frozen streets of Philadelphia towards Sam's house. He tightened the grip on his warm coat, the cold wind cutting his cheeks.

He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He called for Sam, but again no one answered. He walked to the window, looking for any trace of life inside the house. There was no one there. But he spotted empty bottles of wine on the floor, and he shook his head, regretting to have let him 24 hours to cope with Sarah's departure for Boston.

Because clearly, he wasn't coping at all.

He walked to the door again, and knocked more violently, before finally checking the locker. But the door wasn't locked.

So he walked inside, calling for Sam.

He caught the sound of something falling upstairs, and he quickly climbed up the stairs.

He found Sam, sitting on his and Sarah's bed, a bottle of wine in his hand. His hair was disheveled. He looked miserable.

"Sam?" Hancock called softly.

"Go away, John," Sam breathed, his head low, his voice hoarse with alcohol and lack of sleep.

"Are you okay?"

Sam finally looked at him.

"Do I look like I'm okay?" he asked, drinking a gulp of wine.

"What happened?"

But Sam merely shook his head, closing his eyes.

"Please, John... leave me alone."

"You don't look like you need to be alone. You look like a man who needs help."

"And how generous of you to come here and save the day."

Hancock didn't reply, and Sam winced, realizing how much unfair and bitter this remark was.

"I didn't mean that," Sam apologized.

"What happened?" Hancock asked again.

Sam rolled the bottle between his fingers, remaining silent for a moment. But then he took a deep breath.

"I made a choice," Sam merely answered.

"You made a choice?" Hancock asked, walking to the bed, taking of his gloves. "What kind of choice?"

Sam sniffed loudly, and Hancock could see withheld tears shining in his eyes now.

"Probably a bad one," Sam breathed, his throat tightened by the tears he was trying to hold back.

"What did you do, Sam?"

"Michael... he said it was better for her if she went back to the future."

His voice broke, and he struggled to find it back.

"I thought I was protecting her, you see?" he went on, his voice shaking. "I thought I could live with this idea that... I had let her go for her own good. But the truth is... I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do that."

"Did you advise her to go?" Hancock asked.

But Sam shook his head.

"She would have never accepted to go if I had merely... asked her to."

"So what did you do then?"

"I lied to her," Sam whispered.

Hancock gave him a minute to go on.

"I knew she wouldn't go unless I told her I didn't _want_ her to stay," he breathed. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have listened to Michael."

He made a movement to drink again, but Hancock took the bottle from him before the glass bottle could reach his lips.

"I reckon you had enough of this," the merchant said, putting the bottle away from them.

Sam looked sheepishly at the ground.

It was painful to see him this way. Hancock was used to see him fighting, never giving up. He was used to his sarcastic remarks and half mocking smiles and blunt talk. He was used to read determination into his eyes.

But all that was visible in Sam's dark eyes now was pain and doubt. He looked like the shadow of the man he normally was.

"Give me back that bottle," he told Hancock, sitting straighter again.

But John intensely stared at him.

"You haven't drunk a single drop of this in years. Do you really think that this is what Sarah would want you to do? Become a drunk again?"

A tear escaped Sam's eyes and rolled down his cheek and beard.

"I shouldn't have listened to Michael," Sam shook his head.

He started to really cry. And every second that passed made him cry harder.

"I shouldn't have told her to leave. I can't do it again. I thought I could overcome it, but I can't. I can't, John..."

Hancock patted his shoulder, trying to make him calm down.

"Why don't you go get her back then?"

Sam looked up at him, already calming down.

"You love her. I know you do, one should be blind not to notice that your feelings for her are true. Then go get her back."

He rested his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Because I know she loves you too."

They stared at each other for a while.

"You're a fighter, Sam," Hancock told him. "I know you are. I know you fight for what you care about, for the people you love. For once, fight for yourself. Because it's not only your heart you're breaking, it's hers as well."

Sam sniffed loudly, looking by the window. The sky was blue, a pale blue, a shy colour for a cold day.

Sam nodded slowly.

"You're right. You're right I need to get her back before it's too late."

* * *

Sarah had barely talked during their trip to Boston. After a few days with the Colonial troops, the scientists went to meet with Gage and their former colleagues. They were to leave that day. Leave to never return.

But somehow Sarah couldn't cry. She was too sad for that.

As they walked through the streets of Boston, so long after the last time they had come there, Michael looked intensely at her. He had never seen such a stern look on her face.

He guessed that it was how she looked like when she was broken hearted.

After a few minutes of silence, Michael cleared his throat.

"You're okay, Sarah?" he asked.

But she shook her head.

"No, I'm not okay."

James turned towards her, but she stopped walking. All of a sudden she stopped walking. She just froze there, in the middle of the street, her dark boots half buried in the layer of dirty snow that covered the city, her dark hair flying around her as the cold wind got caught in it.

She stared at Michael, and he could see shining tears in her blue eyes.

"Did you ask Sam to break up with me?" she asked sternly, through gritted teeth.

Michael clenched his jaw.

"Answer me," she asked, her voice shaking. "I need to know."

"I didn't ask him to do that," Michael answered slowly.

"But you told him that we had to go. You convinced him that he had to find a way to make me go, right?"

Michael nodded slowly.

"Sarah..."

"I understand why you did this," she interrupted her friend. "I understand, and I'm not angry. But I can't do this. I can't leave him."

"Sarah... we need to go. He agreed on that."

"I'm sure he was lying," she said, and her friend could see that she was trying to convince herself just as much as she wanted to convince him. "He said all that to convince me to leave, because he trusted you. I bet you said that it would be better for me if I left, right?"

Michael nodded again.

"What are you going to do then?" he asked softly.

She turned towards Revere. But he gave her a bright smile.

"Don't look at me like that," he told her. "I don't want you to leave either."

She smiled, before looking at Michael again.

"I can't do this, Michael. I can't do it."

"Alright then. I guess we're staying."

"I thought it would be harder to convince you," she admitted.

But the scientist shook his head.

"You look miserable," Michael smiled. "And to be honest... I feel miserable too."

"What are we going to tell Gage then?"

George Washington advanced towards them. During the whole conversation he had remained silent, standing a few feet away but listening closely.

"Are you certain?" he asked Sarah.

She nodded.

"Then... we will convince General Gage that his best option is to leave. He might keep a hold on your former colleagues though."

"I'm not leaving," Sarah stated, and there was such determination in her voice that Washington merely nodded.

"Come on, we have some negotiations to resume," he said, walking away.

But Sarah didn't follow the rest of them, and no one made any movement to stop her as she spun around and ran away.

She needed to get back to Philadelphia...

* * *

When Sam arrived he was completely frozen. Amos hurried towards him to wrap a warm blanket around his shoulders while someone was taking care of his horse.

He hadn't stopped riding for hours and hours, and he just hoped that he wasn't too late...

"Where is Sarah?" he asked, his voice shaking as his teeth chattered with the cold.

"Sarah? She's not here," Amos answered.

He saw Sam's face growing even paler.

"Where is she?" Sam breathed.

"Sit down, Sam, you're frozen."

"Where is she?" he asked stubbornly.

"They have already left for Boston..."

Sam shrugged his friend away, throwing the blanket on a table nearby, and hurried throughout the encampment in search for a horse. Any horse would do. He just needed a way to get to her before she would leave forever... he couldn't lose her...

But then...

"I need this horse!"

"Lady Sarah..."

"Don't call me 'Lady', and give me this fucking horse!"

"Sarah?"

She froze at the sound of his voice. For a second she thought she had dreamt it. But then she turned and...

He was standing there, with a thin coat on his shoulders. He seemed to be so cold. His eyes were reddened by an evident lack of sleep and...

She couldn't believe that Sam was there. He wasn't supposed to be there...

"Sam? What... what are you doing here?"

But he didn't answer. Instead, he strode towards her, and before she could react he was wrapping his strong arms around her and crushing their lips together, capturing her in a fervent kiss.

And he didn't need to speak to let her know that he was sorry. That nothing he had told her that day was true. That he had just lied because on the moment he had thought it was the best thing he could do for her. That he didn't mean any of those words he had spoken, and that he loved her with all his heart. That he didn't want her to go...

His kiss was enough to let her know all of that.

When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, he locked his dark eyes upon her blue ones, chasing a strand of her black hair away from her face.

"I love you," he breathed, creating a little cloud through the cold air. "I love you, and I thought... I thought I could do it, but I can't live without you. Michael said it was... that it would be protecting you but, Sarah..."

She pressed her lips to his again, not letting him finish his speech. She didn't need to hear these words of his, she could already read them on his heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking softly her cheek. "I'm sorry, please don't go. Don't go..."

She shook slowly her head.

"I knew you were lying," she said, and she started to cry. "I knew it, you bloody idiot... What happened in your head?!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I love you. I love you, and I want to marry you so I can live my whole life with you. Sarah..."

"Shut up. Shut up and kiss me. Shut up and take me home. I want to go home."

Sam held her slender body against his, her form trembling in the cold.

And he swore to both of them that he would never let her go again...

* * *

Sam was nervous. He didn't really know why. He had been through this before after all, it was simple, he knew how it was supposed to go, what was supposed to happen. It was simple, he just had to answer 'yes' when the priest would ask his question.

But he threw one more look at Hancock, Revere and Kelly who stood behind him. And he threw a look at James, Michael and Abigail as well as they stood before him.

He was so nervous.

He straightened his suit for the hundredth time, waiting for Sarah to arrive.

But then the music rang across the church, and the doors opened and...

She looked like an angel. Her black hair were falling loosely on her shoulders, and her eyes were smiling and her white dress... her white lacy dress...

She walked across the room, grinning, and an amazed grin formed on Sam's face as well as he took her hands in his.

He couldn't hear anything of what the priest was saying, he was too hypnotized and aghast by how Sarah looked and the crazy idea that he was lucky enough to have someone like her to love him...

He didn't even hear the priest ask him if he accepted to take her for wife, he was just aware of the sudden silence around him and he knew he was the first to speak, so he answered.

"Yes, I do."

Both his and Sarah's grins widened. And again Sam couldn't manage to catch the priest's words, but then Sarah spoke and...

"Yes, I do."

Hancock gave Sam and Sarah the rings, and Sam slipped her ring around her finger, and she slipped his ring around his finger as well, and the next second they were kissing...

And when they turned towards their friends who were cheering in the little church, they were grinning like never before.

Hancock brushed a tear away from his eyes, and he saw Kelly and Revere doing the same next to him.

After all, he had never seen such a bright smile on Sam's face...

* * *

None of the scientists ever learned what Washington had told Gage to convince him to leave Boston, and to free from his poisonous grasp the three men he was holding prisoner. But somehow he convinced him, and Yuri and his colleagues were sent back to their own time, with a bit of help from Michael to make the box work again.

And now months had passed and they were all sitting in the main hall of the Philadelphia State House, waiting for the vote to take place.

Michael held Sarah's and James's hands in his, his nervousness badly hidden.

But then it was Sam's turn to speak. Sarah gave him an encouraging smile, while Sam waited for the delegates to stop talking. Once silence had settled in the room, he took a deep breath.

It was probably the most important speech of his life, and he knew it. His heart was rushing under his ribs. But his dark eyes were alit with a glint full of fierce and determination, and when he finally spoke, his voice was firm and deep.

" _I know what most of you think of me,_ " he said, crossing his arms before his chest. " _That I'm a thug. A smuggler. Rebel. That I started all of this. Asked for it. A drunk, who never did anything with his life and has caused all this trouble for everybody._ "

He took a moment to let his words sink in, walking through the room, and he glanced over at Sarah, who gave him a warm smile again.

" _Well, I am here today to tell you... that you're right._ "

He looked around him at the delegates, before resuming his speech, his voice getting more and more passionate at every word he spoke.

" _I am all those things and more. But in the eyes of the Crown... I'm nothing. In the eyes of the Crown, you_ ," he went on, pointing at the delegates who stared at him. " _are nothing. You're just..._ Colonists."

He paused again, before continuing in a hurried tone, his voice low and yet passionate, raising from time to time as he spoke and his heart was too heavy with grief and suffering to keep his voice low... He had kept his voice low for long enough already...

" _Who do you want to be? Well the answer, actually isn't even important, it's the idea that we even have the right to ask the question 'who do we want to be?'!_ "

Sam walked back to the front of the room and he stared at the delegates who were sitting before him, listening closely to his speech. But there was anger painted on his features now, and no matter how hard he tried, every word he spoke was louder than the previous one, and he ended by speaking almost through gritted teeth in a loud and infuriated tone.

" _We don't need a birth right, we don't need a family crest and we certainly_ don't _need the King's damn permission! What we need is a fair and equal chance!_ "

His gaze roamed the room again, and there was so much passion in his dark eyes...

" _The freedom to live our lives the way that we see fit and the confidence that that freedom cannot be taken away from us. That... That is our God given right. And I for one am ready to fight for it, am ready to die for it. Independence, gentlemen. Independence._ "

* * *

The vote all passed in a blur. Sam listened at first, but then as he was counting in his head and realized that he was the last to speak and... he... he just couldn't believe it. He remained frozen on his chair, although he heard Hancock's voice calling for his name on the other side of the room...

" _Sam_?" Hancock called his name again, and he felt Sarah's hand rest on his arm, and her touch somehow freed him from his stillness.

He was trembling, shaking from head to toe. There were too many emotions in him now...

Slowly, he rose from his chair.

" _Aye_ ," he nodded, his voice weaker than he intended, but it was enough for everyone in the room to hear.

Michael and James were crying, Sarah held Sam's hand, tears shining at the corner of her eyes.

" _The resolution for Independence is hereby passed_ ," Hancock said proudly.

They all started to clap, and to shake hands, but Sam was frozen. A grin slowly formed on his lips, as he stared at Hancock, an aghast look on his face. It's only when Sarah kissed his cheek that he was able to move again, and he held his wife tightly in his arms.

And Hancock had never seen such a bright smile on his friend's face, at the exception of his wedding day...

* * *

The war was over at last. James and Michael both fought and miraculously came back in one piece, just like Revere and Kelly. Warren spent every second of his time healing soldiers as long as the war lasted.

But finally, it was all over. It was time for bandaging the bodies and souls. It was time to build upon the ashes of an era that was gone now.

Joseph practiced medicine in Boston again, instead of battlefields. He married Margaret Gage a few months after the end of the war.

Paul lived close to Sam, and went back to his merchant life.

Hancock and Franklin were still busy with their political responsibilities.

Kelly and Amos took care of rebuilding the Green Dragon that was partially destroyed during the war, and they settled there, running their business in the most honest of ways.

James and Mary bought a little house near Warren's home. They called their daughter Sarah.

Michael fell in love with a woman from South Carolina, and he followed her there. They bought a little farm in the countryside and they threw the most marvelous parties for the birth of their three sons.

John Adams remained in the political sphere. He even became President, for which his cousin kept on laughing at him.

Sam was still involved in the political world, but less than before. Less than during the war. Now, he longed for peace and quiet. After all, he was a lucky man, and he intended to enjoy every moment that was given to him. Perhaps that was why he insisted on living out of town. He wanted to be alone with the people he loved and made him happier than he had ever been.

Sarah would have been lying if she had said that she didn't miss her world now and then. She wouldn't have refused a good movie, or some toothpaste. But she just had to look at Sam playing with their daughter and their son to remind herself that she had no regrets.

THE END


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